


Bats, Bonds and Kryptonite

by BatShitCrazy



Series: The Soul Bond Series [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Justice League - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, BDSM, BatPlans™, BatSmirks, Collars, Dark fic, Flirting, Forced Bonding, Fortress of Solitude, Gala Brucie, Hurt/Comfort, Jealous Diana, Jealousy, Kryptonite, Lots of Angst, M/M, Mating Bond, Mind Control, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, More tags to be added, Piercings, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Body Play, Rough Sex, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Soul Bond, Soulmates, Teasing, Tesseract, jealous Clark, playboy Brucie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-11-23
Packaged: 2018-10-26 18:17:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 40
Words: 134,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10792104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BatShitCrazy/pseuds/BatShitCrazy
Summary: This idea began with a One Shot - Lucid DreamingWhich was followed up with Best Laid Plans of a Bat.The Bat's Plan for revenge came unstuck!There is no way the Bat is taking this sitting down (pun intended).But what happens when Kryptonite is involved?The third in the Revenge Series - named by WittyWords.Each chapter will have updated warnings, so please check if you have triggers.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The ideas just keep coming.  
> So I don't know how long this fic will be.  
> Be prepared for slow updates.  
> Some chapters will be short.
> 
> I do have a lot of the structure of the story planned, not much filling yet.
> 
> This story will get Dark, very Dark.
> 
> Standard Disclaimer Here.  
> I don't own these characters and do not write this fanfiction for profit.
> 
> Obviously, this is AU.
> 
> Constructive feedback welcomed, but I won't threaten to withhold chapters without it.
> 
> Finally, just because my main characters are bisexual/gay, doesn't mean everyone else will be.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Superman had finished up with the rescue of a sinking cruise ship.  
No one had been hurt thankfully.

With Aquaman's help, holding the waters from entering a large hole in the starboard side, they had towed the ocean going liner to the nearest port, and into dry dock for repairs.

The two heroes stood apart from the crowd while the passengers disembarked.  
Arthur looked at Superman, who was frowning and scratching at his neck absentmindedly.

 

"My friend, is everything well?" The Atlantian asked.  
Superman looked up towards the sky.

 

"Yes.  
No.  
I'm not sure" his brow creased in confusion.  
"It's Batman" he muttered.

 

Arthur watched the Kryptonian with curious eyes.  
"What has happened?"

 

"I'm not exactly sure Arthur" 

 

"Do you wish to speak about it? You have my confidence. I will not breach your trust"  
Arthur watched as Superman's eyes darted about.

 

Clark snorted softly when Arthur said 'breach of trust'  
Isn't that exactly what he had done?  
Had he ruined the friendship with Bruce?  
Crossed the line after years of patience, building the foundation of comradeship and more.  
Bruce was his best friend.  
What if Bruce pushed him away?

"He came to see me, at my home" 

 

Arthur nodded encouragingly.  
"And what did the Man of Bats want?"

 

"I think he wanted to talk"  
Superman pondered for a moment.  
What if Bruce had only wanted to talk?  
What if he only brought the Kryptonite to ensure his own safety?  
Clark had taken the protection away, and pushed past the boundaries.  
Again.

 

"Did you talk with him" Arthur's voice broke the Super from his thoughts.

 

"Well, yes and no" Clark blushed at the memory of how he had trapped Bruce in his oversized chair and taken those plush lips.

Arthur lifted an eyebrow.

The blush spread.

"I...can we do this another time Arthur?"

 

The King of Atlantis clapped the blue clad shoulder.  
"Anytime you like, you need only call.  
Sovereign duties permitting"

 

"Of course, I understand, and thanks" Superman hovered for a moment.  
"And thankyou for the help with the ship."

As he flew away, he heard Arthur's reply "Anytime my friend. Take care" before the sea king slipped into the waves and headed home.

 

Superman flew towards Metropolis in a state of confusion.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Salt water dried on his skin, leaving a fine white crystalline powder that itched during his return flight.  
He reasoned it must be the cause of the tingling sensation that seemed to cover him.  
It was unusual, but nothing to worry about.

Admittedly, the rescue had taken longer to deal with than anticipated, so it was no surprise to find his apartment empty.  
He tried not to think about the disappointment he felt.

Intending to take a hot shower and get some rest, he glanced around at the state of chaos.  
Mentally groaning at the disaster zone, he changed into comfy sweats and filled a bucket with soapy water.

 

Once at the window in his living room, he stared at the glass, remembering what occurred barely a few hours ago.

What had he been thinking?  
It was very out of character for him.

Wiping at the smeared glass, the cloth caught on the grooves scratched by his nails.

 

"Clark.......please?" the memory of Bruce's voice startles him, and he can feel himself getting hard.

 

His brows furrow in confusion.  
When did things change so drastically?

Why had he invaded the Bats privacy, and home that night after monitor duty?

Why had he responded the way he had when he found Bruce sitting in his apartment?  
He didn't have an answer.

This wasn't like him at all.

Sinking to the floor, head in his hands, he began to worry for his sanity.

Losing his hard won friendship with Bruce wasn't a risk he wanted to take, so why?

 

A bout of nausea flooded him every time he thought on his actions but he was conflicted, because he also felt an almost irresistible draw towards his best friend.

He felt a strong desire to rush to Gotham, to beg forgiveness, to bury his face in the broad shoulders and weep, to take those soft lips and kiss him senseless.  
'No no no' he said to himself.

 

"What have I done?" He mumbled into the empty room.

 

Batman is going to make him suffer, one way or another, he just knows it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after Best Laid Plans.
> 
> No warnings for this chapter, except for some snark ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter, as promised.
> 
> I'm pretty close to completing chapter 3.
> 
> For LilysBooks - who loves that Alfred doesn't take any crap from Bruce.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

At the breakfast table in the kitchen, Alfred watched his charge carefully.

 

A call the previous evening had seen him return to the airport much sooner than expected.   
Seeing the young man exit the Wayne Enterprises private jet looking worse than when he departed, had him wondering what had happened between the two heroes.

 

Concern had flooded through him.  
The ride back to the manor passed quickly.   
Master Bruce didn't offer any hints instead choosing to stare out the window.  
Alfred couldn't gauge the mood.  
Even more surprising was that Batman hadn't gone on patrol, again.

 

The Bat had spent the night in the Cave drawing up schematics and plans.  
Every time Alfred brought down coffee and a snack, the screen would blank off.  
It seemed that whatever the young Master was doing wasn't to be shared.

 

When Alfred had arrived in the kitchen this morning, he was shocked to see an awake, immaculately dressed, Bruce Wayne.

 

Conversation will need to happen soon or the boy would simply, once again, withdraw into himself, into The Bat.  
Frankly, Alfred was worried.

 

"Master Bruce" the elder man began "The shirt you arrived home in has been laundered.  
I couldn't help but notice, it is not one of your usual 'styles'."

 

Bruce blanched for a moment before taking a sip of his coffee.  
"Burn it" he said "Or return it. I don't care Alfred"

 

Alfred's eyebrows rose.  
"If it doesn't belong to you Master Bruce, then burning it is hardly polite"

 

"My own shirt was not fit to wear for my return trip" Bruce snorted.

 

Alfred could swear he saw the hint of a blush cross the aristocratic features.  
"Do you wish to discuss the matter?" He asked, reigning in a smile that threatened to break his cool facade.

 

"No Alfred, I do not" Bruce huffed in reply.

Bruce tugged at the knot of his tie, feeling it press against the lingering hand shaped bruise on his neck.

 

"Well I do hope you aren't planning anymore foolishness." Alfred said as he approached the young man to assist with the tie.

A few tugs loosened the silk, then Alfred straightened the knot so that it sat neatly, but not firmly, against the damaged skin.

 

Bruce wouldn't look at his father figure.

"Alfred" he began a little unsteadily "Clark has been" he paused.

 

Clark had been what?  
Certainly not his usual Boy Scout self.  
Initially Bruce hadn't complained.

 

The night time visit from the Man of Steel had certainly been enjoyable, he admitted to himself.  
Then he had gone running to Metropolis, with Kryptonite.

 

The Kryptonite that was given to him, with a duty to use it if Superman needed to be contained.  
Bruce had grabbed it for petty revenge.

 

What if Clark didn't trust him anymore?  
What if having the Kryptonite with him had broken the faith the big lug placed in him?

 

Bruce had taken a long time to accept the Kryptonian as a friend.  
Clark said they were best friends, despite Bruce's gruff exterior and brooding nature.

 

"I'm not blind Master Bruce" Alfred's voice broke him from his thoughts.

This time Bruce did blush.

 

"Nor do I judge, as you well know" the butler continued.

Alfred placed a wrinkled hand on the sharp jaw and lifted it gently to look into steel blue eyes.

 

"I won't be around forever boy" he whispered.

 

The eyes before him clouded for a moment, before looking away.

"Don't say that Alfred" 

 

Alfred shook his head sadly.

"Whether you acknowledge it or not, it doesn't prevent it from being true."

 

Bruce stood and stepped around Alfred to place his barely touched breakfast plate on the sink.

"You will outlive the Batman" he said quietly.

 

Alfred fumed for a moment.

"You would make me bury my son?" He asked through gritted teeth.  
"It was not enough for me to bury your parents, my best friends, you would put an old man through the torture of seeing the one thing I live for, the child of my heart, killed as well?" 

 

Bruce gulped down the lump in his throat.

He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off.

 

"I have supported you in your Mission.   
I may not have liked it, but I've done my damnedest to keep you alive.   
How will I face your parents after I pass, if you have never been happy?   
I made a vow as well.   
I promised them that you would live."

Alfred's fist were clenched so hard that the knuckles were white.

"Live, Master Bruce, not just exist.   
Not just become a weapon no matter how noble your cause." 

 

Alfred paused to take a breath.

 

Grabbing the shoulders of the taller man, he spoke again.

"I thought we *ahem* cared for one another.   
Every time the phone rings while you are out as Batman, I wonder if it will be The Call." He said sadly.

 

Bruce looked at Alfred then.   
He saw the salt and pepper in his hair, the wrinkles on his face. 

"Alfred" he began softly.

 

"No"   
Alfred interrupted again.  
"Joining the League initially allayed some of my fears.   
However, you continue to hold them at arms length, not allowing them into your city.   
Every overture of friendship has been rebuked."

 

"I can't Alfred" Bruce began to rub at his forehead. 

A headache had been building since last night.   
He put it aside for the moment. 

"The Mission doesn't allow time for personal relationships, you know that."

 

Alfred snorted.  
"You mean you won't allow it."

 

Bruce whirled and glared at the butler.

 

"Don't give me that look" Alfred sniffed "I am immune to the BatGlare, as you are aware."

 

Alfred began scraping the breakfast dishes. The clattering of crockery echoed loudly in the kitchen.   
After turning on the tap, he faced his young charge once more.

"I know full well that Miss Prince has expressed an interest in getting closer to you.   
Lord knows why with how you continually refuse her.   
Now Mr Kent obviously wants to move beyond friendship, although his methods leave something to be desired."

 

"He could have at least asked" Bruce growled.

 

Alfred turned off the faucet and wiped damp hands on a clean tea towel.

 

"I'm sure we all know what the response to that would have been.   
Mr Kent is not stupid, despite your assertions to the contrary.   
In fact, it took years before you even acknowledged a friendship with the man.   
You can't tell me that, if you had been approached in a more socially acceptable manner, you wouldn't have rejected him outright" he stated blandly.

 

Bruce sat heavily on the stool at the countertop, pinching the bridge of his nose as the throbbing behind his eyes increased.

 

Sighing heavily, he said "Alfred I don't have time for relationships.   
People end up frustrated or worse, hurt, because of me.   
Bruce Wayne also has an image to maintain.   
I can't afford to blow my cover by being involved with a member of the League.   
Even if a relationship begins with their civilian identity, it's too risky."

 

Alfred reached forward to stroke soothing circles between the shoulders of the tired vigilante.

"Master Bruce, these are the strongest people on the planet.   
You should give them some credit."

 

"They may be strong Alfred, it doesn't mean they're smart.   
Who, in their right mind, would break into the Manor to then take, what you correctly assume, would be denied?   
I did not consent, or encourage in any way, the actions Clark took." Bruce was getting riled up now.

 

"Is that why you took the Kryptonite to Metropolis?" The canny Englishman asked.

 

"What?   
No!   
That was a stupid mistake on my part" Bruce grumbled.  
"I wasn't given an opportunity to talk about the recent 'events'."  
It was taken out of my hands.   
Again"

 

Alfred's eyebrows rose. "Did Mr Kent attack you?"

 

"In a manner of speaking Alfred.   
However, I did go there with intent" Bruce said lowly.

 

Alfred merely nodded understanding.   
"I see Master Bruce."

 

Amusement laced his voice as he added.  
"So he got one over the Batman, not once, but twice.   
If I may ask, what now?"

 

"Now Alfred?   
Now, I'm going to work.   
I have some new projects to discuss with Lucius.   
He will be surprised to see me so early." Bruce smirked.

 

"Just give me a moment Sir, and I shall bring the car around" Alfred said as he started towards the door.

 

"That won't be necessary old friend" Bruce clapped his hand on the shoulder of his most trusted confidant.  
"I'll take the Lamborghini.   
It's been a while since I've taken it for a run.   
Time to blow out the cobwebs" he smirked as he gathered schematics, that had been rolled up neatly on the table, and put them inside his briefcase.

 

"As you wish" Alfred replied dryly "Do try to avoid the tickets this time"

 

Bruce openly laughed as he left the kitchen and headed down into the garage.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 just needs an ambiguous ending.
> 
> Wait, what?
> 
> ;)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce starts to tease Clark.
> 
> Is that really such a good idea?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some chapters will be short.
> 
> And I agonised over this.  
> Tenses!  
> He thought v's he thinks etc.
> 
> In the end I gave up and went with my original.
> 
> Chapter 4 isn't far from being finished, I just need some mundane stuff about Justice League meetings.
> 
> Hang in there, it does get better.  
> Well, at least IMHO
> 
> And remember when Bruce took the pictures of Clark's destroyed apartment in Best Laid Plans of a Bat, well here's where they start getting used.  
> To tease Clark, of course!
> 
> ;)

Perry White had called a staff meeting.  
Assignments were being discussed and distributed amongst the reporters of the Daily Planet.  
Clark only just managed to complete his piece on time about the cruise ship Superman & Aquaman had prevented sinking.

 

Seated next to Lois Lane, his mind began to wander back to last night.

 

A ping from his phone jolted him back to awareness.  
Mumbling apologies, he slid the phone out of his pocket, earning a glare from Perry.  
Lois snickered next to him, as he swiped the screen.

 

Clark was surprised to see a message from Bruce Wayne.

 

Lois looked over as he opened the attachment.

 

It was a photo, of his apartment, the chair that had ended up destroyed flashed up.

 

Lois nudged him, he glanced over to see that she was looking at the picture.

 

"Kent!" Perry's voice brought his attention back suddenly.

 

"Sorry Chief" standing quickly, he moved to the door.  
"A source" he stammered "Potential story"

 

Lois stood to follow him.

 

"It's a follow up on Intergang" she lied easily

 

"It better be good you two" the grizzled editor said as he shooed them out of his office. The other reporters stared at their retreating backs as Lois hurried to keep up with Clark.

 

"Just give me a minute Lois" Clark said as they arrived at their desks.

 

Rushing into the men's room, he glimpsed Lois crossing her arms.   
She had that expression on her face that meant he better hurry his ass up.

 

Slamming himself into a stall, he took himself in hand and jerked off desperately.  
A few rough strokes had him doubling over in an orgasmic haze.  
He didn't remember coming so quickly before.

 

Quickly washing his hands of the evidence, splashing water on his face, he looked at himself in the mirror.

 

"What the fuck?" he whispered to his reflection.

 

Straightening himself as best he could, preparing himself for Lois' interrogation, he left the bathroom.  
Lois was dragging him to the elevator before the door had closed completely behind him.

 

As the elevator door closed, the phone pinged again.  
Groaning to himself, he attempted to ignore it.

 

"Smallville?" Lois reached into his jacket to nab his phone but Clark's hand clamped on her wrist before she could extract the device.

 

"Not here" he pleaded.

 

"You're hurting me" she hissed.

 

Releasing his grip quickly, appalled at his lack of control twice in the last few minutes, he stepped away from her.  
"S..Sorry Lois" 

 

Rubbing at her wrist "What's going on? Who sent that message? It looked like your living room Clark"

 

Clark was feeling light headed but heavy in his gut.  
Although he appreciated that she covered for him with Perry, he couldn't admit to what the picture referenced.

 

Pressing the button to send the elevator to the roof, he refused to meet her eyes.

 

Upon reaching the roof, he turned to his best friend.

 

"Stay here Lois" figuring she already thought it related to caped business "I have to check it out"

 

Ducking behind the air conditioning units, changing at super speed, he folded his clothes while determinedly not looking at the phone in his hand. 

 

Stashing his journalists garb in the usual place, he returned to Lois wearing his bold colours.

 

The wind blew his cape across his body, hiding the painfully returning erection that had started rising at the second ping of his phone in the elevator.

 

Before he lifted off, Lois went to grab at him "Call me later, so I know you're ok" 

 

Pulling his arm away and nodding dully, he took off at speed.   
Superman whipped up enough wind to ruffle Lois' hair and clothes, causing her to stagger back a few steps.

 

Concerned, she gets out her own phone to shoot a message to Bruce Wayne.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Superman overshot his own apartment.

He's halfway over the harbour, heading to Gotham, when he realised his mistake.  
Coming to a sudden stop above the choppy waves, he looks towards the gothic city and thinks about her shadowy protector.

 

Feeling himself flush into full arousal, he's tempted to dive headlong into the chilled water. He knows he can't, his phone is with him and it's not waterproof.

 

Remembering the ping he received in the elevator, he swipes at the screen to see what the message says.  
Maybe Bruce wants to talk?  
What if he sent the picture to let Clark know that the line had been crossed?  
Groaning to himself, he looks at the picture intently.

 

It is a picture of teeth marks on a firm, tight ass cheek.

Pondering how Bruce managed to take the picture of himself without showing identifying scars occupied his super brain for a nanosecond before he's shuddering into his tights.

 

A rippling haze covers his vision for a moment, before he looks around with a start.  
The nearest people are several kilometres away on the ferry, no one would have seen him at such a distance without enhanced abilities.

 

'That's a first' he thinks 'I've never come untouched before'  
He feels big and awkward for a moment, before turning around back towards Metropolis.

 

Before flying home, he listens for that distinctive heartbeat in Gotham.  
As much as he wants to fly to Bruce and just lick him all over, he can't.

 

Bruce is in his office at Wayne Enterprises, and Clark has his tights full of his ejaculate.   
Not his best look.

 

Besides, what would he say to the Bat, to Bruce, after their last few encounters.

 

Superman blushes furiously, and a throbbing is rattling inside his head.

 

Why did Bruce send those pictures?  
What if Bruce is furious with him?

Is that why he brought the Kryptonite?

 

Bruce was his best friend, and he had taken advantage of Bruce's tired state.  
Then, if Bruce had only come to Metropolis to talk, Clark had taken his only protection away.

 

And ravished him, again.

His cock gives an interested twitch, which startles Clark out of his musings.

 

Clark can feel the tug in his bones, a sickly sweet ache that pulses in cadence with the growing pounding in his skull, drawing him towards Gotham.

It's like being thirsty in a desert, and Bruce Wayne is a long drink of water. 

 

The Kryptonian shakes himself viciously, and resolutely begins the flight back to his apartment.   
He can't go too fast, otherwise his come will dry inside his uniform.

 

He needs to stop worrying about Batman, for the moment, and get back to his clothes on the roof of the Daily Planet.  
He can't risk Lois catching him, so he needs to change his uniform.

 

A deep sigh floats down to the white tipped swell below, as the Man of Steel fights every instinct, to reluctantly resume his responsibilities.

 

He groans again as he realised, he didn't know what he was going to tell Lois.  
Or Perry for that matter.

 

He was overwhelmed, and would have preferred to drown in the bay than acknowledge the sinking feeling in his gut.

 

He was in way over his head.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something strange is definitely happening to the big Boy Scout.  
> What could it be?  
> Why is he changing?
> 
> Batman is determined to get his revenge though.
> 
> Is this really a good idea?
> 
> Hmmm, you be the judge.
> 
> ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last of the chapters I've had mostly outlined, for a while.
> 
> It's a bit rushed too, because I felt bad that the last chapter was so short.  
> I wanted to pad it out more, but guilt was eating me up.  
> It's not edited anywhere close to the other chapters.  
> Oliver is supposed to pick up on what's going on but my anxiety wouldn't let me write it.
> 
> I have some more future chapters written but they are further in the story.
> 
> So it might take a while for chapter 5.  
> It has plot.  
> That is harder to write, at least for me.
> 
> I'm really not a good writer, so I'm sorry about that.
> 
> And can anyone help me with how to fix the notes at the end?  
> They are driving me BatShitCrazy - not in a good way!!!!
> 
> Cheers

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Batman arrived at the Watchtower, timing it with the commencement of the monthly meeting.  
He's wasn't in the mood for small talk with the other heroes.  
Especially not Superman.

 

The meeting was about to start when Batman entered the conference room, cape flaring behind him dramatically.  
He took a seat at the back of the room, coincidentally closest to the door and furthest from Superman.  
He set up a small workstation, linking it with the Watchtower and the big monitor at the head of the table.  
When he looked up, everyone was staring at him.

 

"I don't have all day." the strong baritone said and crossed his arms.

 

"By your command" Oliver replied, grinning at Batman.  
Seated nearby, Oliver could swear he heard an eye roll from behind the lenses of the cowl.

 

Flash sniggered at the Green Arrow's reference to pop culture.

 

Superman frowned from the head of the table.  
"Batman" he queried "your usual seat is empty"  
But he is ignored by the dark knight.

 

"Someone's in trouble" Flash teased

 

"Can we just begin already" Hawk Girl called from where she sat next to Batman's empty chair.

 

Wonder Woman nodded in agreement, encouraging Superman to start.

 

Still frowning, the Kryptonian got the ball rolling and called on Cyborg to bring up the Monitor Duty rotation on the screen.  
As he took his seat, he looked from the empty chair next him to Batman sitting at the back of the room.  
Thoughts crossed his mind at lightening speed.  
Was Bruce really that mad at him?  
He began to worry.

 

A nudge from Diana drew his attention back to the roster in front of them all.

 

"I can't do the 12th" Hal called to Victor "I have a test flight that day"

 

"I can cover your shift if you can do the 17th" Batman said while typing away.  
"There's a fundraiser that requires my attendance"

 

Hal checked his own calendar.  
"Sure thing Spooky. And thanks"

 

Batman glared at the moniker.  
"Don't call me that" he grits out.

 

"Is that the fundraiser for the children's oncology ward?" Oliver said to Bruce

 

"Yes" is the reply

 

"Queen Industries is representing" the Archers grin widened and he rubbed his hands together gleefully "Who is Brucie, notorious playboy, taking to this shindig?"

 

Batman snorted "Why? Do you need a date Ollie?"

 

Superman clasped his hands together to stop himself from breaking the table.  
He refused to look at Batman.

 

Dinah burst into laughter from her seat next to Oliver. 

 

Flash giggled from his spot.

 

"Relax Oliver" Diana interjected "Bruce has a date already"

 

Superman looked over at Diana, feeling his temper fraying around the edges.

 

Batman looked over "I do" he stated, smirking.

 

Clark could swear he was punched in the gut at hearing those words.

 

Dinah leant into the Amazonian next to her "You said yes to spending time with Brucie?" a stage whisper loud enough for everyone to hear.

 

"Bruce called when he saw I was attending under my diplomatic duties" Diana grins "There won't be an international incident, I have promised not to throw a drink on the Armani this time, as long as I am not subjected to the Brucie Wayne fan club"

 

Everyone laughed, even Bruce.

 

The Man of Steel's laugh is a hollow, brittle thing.  
His chest constricts and breathing becomes difficult all of a sudden.

 

"Shall we get back to the meeting?" Arthur stated

 

Flash poked his tongue out at the King of Atlantis.

 

As meeting continued, Batman leant over towards the Green Arrow  
"I'm staying at the International.   
Want to catch-up before the gala?   
The girls can get ready in my suite while we watch the Knights demonstration game from my box seats.   
Victor will be supporting his old team, and Barry will be there as the Flash for the afternoon party being put on for the kids."

 

"When are you arriving? We can pick you up from the airport." Oliver whispers back.

 

Batman typed a little more and Olivers phone pings, all the details of Bruce's flight and schedule appear.  
Oliver gives a thumbs up and both of them return their attention to the meeting.

 

Superman had overheard the exchange.   
Silently fuming, he rubbed at his forehead to try and relieve the building pressure. 

Bruce has a date!

With Diana!!

 

And he's spending time with other members of the League. 

 

Bruce never spent time with the others, outside the uniform, he just didn't do social occasions. 

Except for Clark, Bruce never acts friendly towards the rest of the members.

 

Clark glanced up to see J'onn looking at him, that steady, unwavering gaze catches him off guard.

 

//Superman, are you unwell?// the Martian spoke into his mind.

 

Clark flinches, just a little.  
//A headache J'onn, nothing to worry about//

 

//That is most unusual// the deep tones echo inside his head.

 

//What do you mean?// Clark straightens his posture and watches the meeting progress.   
He's finding it difficult to concentrate on the Monitor Duty Roster and have a conversation with J'onn at the same time.   
Normally, he kept up easily.

 

//You are invulnerable Superman. You should not have headaches.// J'onn said telepathically.

 

Superman shrugs his shoulders.

 

//Can we worry about it later J'onn, please?// Kryptonian biology aside, he wants to listen in on what's happening at the other end of the table.

 

Sitting up the front, Superman pays close attention to any further exchanges between Batman and Green Arrow with his exceptional hearing.

Nothing more is said between the heroes but that doesn't mean anything.  
Batman continues to type at his workstation without paying Clark any attention at all.  
This makes the Super irrationally angry.

 

Their get together sounded like a fun.  
He ponders how he can to be invited too.

Leaving Bruce and Diana alone together makes bile rise in his throat.  
Stopping this date has become a priority.

 

No one noticed the pinched, pained, look on Superman's face.

 

As the meeting progresses, through maintenance and other various issues that regularly crop up, Oliver notices the tension between Superman and Batman. 

It's not unusual for the two to disagree, to the point it devolves into an outright argument, but something is definitely off.

As far as Oliver can see, Batman is avoiding any and all interactions with the Kryptonian.  
He glances to Dinah and raises an eyebrow in query.

Dinah just flicks her hair and ignores the unspoken question.

As much as Oliver knows Dinah is hoping Bruce and Diana will get together, this isn't something to be ignored.

Anything that can effect the dynamics within the team could impact, especially, on the battlefield.

The meeting continues and the tension between the World's Finest builds.

 

Towards the end of the meeting, Superman stood up.  
"It has been brought to my attention that the cafeteria has been left in a messy state on several occasions since the last meeting."

 

He glanced around the table.  
Most of the members actually look embarrassed.  
Batman types, smirking.

 

"We all use the facilities here, and there have been times when we have to rush off to an emergency. I ask all of us to pitch in when there is no emergency though."

He stops at the sound of giggling.

 

Behind Superman an image flashes up on the big monitor.

 

It's a picture of black framed glasses and a stack of mail soaked in Coke.

 

The snickering gets louder.  
Everyone recognises the spectacles and kitchen of Clark's apartment.

 

"That seems hypocritical in light of this evidence, don't you think?" Martian Manhunter asked, seemingly innocent, as he motions at the monitor behind Superman.

Inside he is struggling not to join the laughter around the table.   
He can sense it is a joke from Batman.

 

Superman turns to the screen, whirls back to stare at smug Batman, blushing furiously.

 

No one else seems able to speak due to the now open laughter.

 

"Th......that's not the point" Superman stammers.  
"Guys" he begins "and girls" he adds hurriedly "this is not a laughing matter"

The Man of Steel ties to get the meeting back on track "this is serious"

 

Behind him, the picture changes again, showing his curtain rail and curtains, ripped from the wall and lying haphazardly in his living room.

 

The howls of laughter only increase.

 

Superman clenches his fists, before whirling to the monitor and putting his fist through it.

Silence descends abruptly.

 

"That's not coming out out of the maintenance budget" Batman growls from his seat.

 

Superman stares at the Dark Knight through narrowed eyes.

 

Cyborg just sighs at the destruction.

 

All eyes watch Superman as he tries to calm himself.

 

"Kal" Diana begins

 

"No Diana, this is a Justice League meeting and I'd appreciate it if you could all conduct yourselves accordingly" Superman's eyes glow red as he stares down the Amazonian.

 

Diana holds her hands palms outwards in an attempt to appease the Kryptonian.

 

"If you've finished making jokes at my expense" the Man of Steel looks towards Batman, only to find the he has vanished.

 

He groans and rubs at his head.

 

What is he expected to say now, and about about the embarrassing pictures?

 

Superman is fuming, emotions seem to run rampant through him and he's just about had enough.

 

"Think about what I've said" he grinds out "Meeting adjourned"

He exits the room, ready to give the Bat... what?

 

He stops in the middle of the corridor.  
Realising he is angry and frustrated, he's not sure what his intentions are towards the Gothamite.

Resting his head against the cool metal bulkhead, he takes several deep breaths.

 

As much as he wants to rush to the vigilante, he knows that the unique heartbeat has already left the Watchtower.

However, all he can think about is rushing to Bruce and holding him down and...

 

The blue clad hero shakes his head.  
Lately all he can think about is Batman, and what he wants to do to that body.

 

A sudden cramp almost has him bent double.  
The pull towards the billionaire is irresistible.

 

Clark knows that something is wrong.  
He's in pain, but he's also painfully hard just thinking about Bruce.

 

In his periphery, he can hear the other members of the League leaving the conference room. Super speeding to his quarters, he makes it there before he is discovered.

 

Shoving his hand in his tights, he grips his straining erection, determined not to give in this time.

 

A moan shakes him to the core as his hand moves of its own volition.

Dropping to his knees and arching his back, he's coming in a rush of heat before he can stop himself.

 

It takes a few deep breaths before he comes back to himself.  
Maybe it is time to start worrying if he can't control himself anymore.

 

Another agonising cramp grips him and leaves him panting, before he suddenly blacks out and collapses.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plot!
> 
> This is your plot warning, as things are starting to happen.
> 
> This is also your Pun warning.   
> They are bad, truly, but I am incapable of writing anything anymore without some lame attempt at humour.
> 
> I just want to make you all smile ok?
> 
> Cheers :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter started as a short introduction to what the plot was going to evolve into.
> 
> Well, it's now the Frankenstein Chapter, it's alive!  
> It really has taken on a life of its own.
> 
> I have split this monster chapter up into 3, possibly 4 chapters. Maybe more because it's not actually, technically, completed yet.  
> Mercy!!!
> 
> A lot happens. Some of it won't make sense straight away but it is important for what happens later.
> 
> Many many many thanks to LilysBooks who listened to me agonise over this for so long.  
> Also many special thanks for being such a good friend during some pretty serious real life drama I've been going through for the past week.  
> I am lucky to have a good friend like you.  
> Thanks to AO3, and our love of SuperBat, for introducing us.
> 
> And finally, there's no one to blame but myself for all the bad puns.  
> I just can't help myself, especially the one in the last paragraph.  
> I have no excuse except that it needed to be done.
> 
> My sense of humour is pretty crazy, but I sincerely hope I don't offend anyone with my Lame-ness.
> 
> The next few chapters should (fingers crossed) go up much faster.  
> They only require a few paragraphs to finish them, and editing.
> 
> Also, I haven't slept in over 30 hours, so there might be errors both grammatical and punny - but I can totally blame everything on lack of sleep, right?
> 
> Please enjoy

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Bruce was in the cave.

Despite his best efforts, meditation, denial, ignoring what his body is screaming at him, his temples continued to beat mercilessly in his skull and sickness seemed to plague his every waking moment of late.

He'd even run blood tests on himself but they yielded no answers for him.  
He refused to acknowledge that the symptoms eased with his proximity to Kent at the last JL meeting.

 

He smirked at the teasing he had inflicted on the Boy Scout.

 

Still, as he had teleported away from the Watchtower, he would not acknowledge the growing unease inside him.

 

He didn't have the time or patience to deal with it now.  
He had a job to do.

 

Lately, his informants had been mentioning new Intergang activity.  
This news was as unwelcome as the thought of potential illness was to him.  
It had, however, brought together an unlikely working relationship as part of a small group.

The enemy of my enemy is my friend.

Contact had been limited and brief, but there were plans being set into motion that would curtail the terrorists' abilities for mayhem and limit destruction.

Layers of contingencies had been strategised over with Cyborg as his League partner for this case. The young bio-mechanoid's skills as an information processor/hacker/technophile was as clever as Batman himself (better if he was honest), and he wanted to encourage the teen genius. The ex-footballer was reliable, fearless and understood discretion. 

Together they were coordinating with Gordon and a specialised Taskforce at the GCPD. This was beyond the normal counter terrorism unit, although they exchanged relevant information between them.

It was one of his ex-rogues that held the real surprise.  
Penguin, who would practically lay an egg at any intrusion into his territory, was the unlikely member of the group.

The one thing that Penguin detested were bullies.  
Intergang's intimidation tactics ruffled the old bird's feathers.  
A fiercely protective mother hen to his clients and staff had kept him uncaged from prison or Arkham because no crimes were being perpetrated by the wacky businessman.

Well, except for crimes of fashion and good taste, but Batman was not a member of the Fashion Police.  
Brucie Wayne might be a different story but that wasn't part of his current objective.

 

It seemed that building a nest egg via legitimate business was profitable enough to prevent Penguin from skating back into old, illegal, habits.  
He was no spring chicken anymore and Batman genuinely hoped the old bird could get his act together, stay on the straight and narrow, but sometimes Gotham didn't make it easy for people like Oswald Cobblepot to reform.

 

Batman also knew he had the right incentive for Penguin to be the perfect stool pigeon. A previous run in with Intergang had left a bad taste in Cobblepot's mouth, along with an unscheduled refurbishment of The IceBurg Lounge.  
It was pure luck that the slippery fowl hadn't perished with the explosion that nearly demolished his club. The only casualties had been the exotic birds living in gilded cages, and Penguin had taken that personally.

Ultimately, the feathered fiend had always been as territorial as the Bat when it came to Gotham. That was unlikely to change despite Penguin giving up his criminal activities.

 

Increasing signs of Intergang activity were not what the Dark Knight needed right now.  
Gotham had more than enough problems of her own, and the last thing he wanted was to have Metas fighting in his city.  
Yet, indications of Intergang movements would result in not only other members of the League, but higher than normal damage to infrastructure and property.

Gotham, it seemed, couldn't catch a break.

 

He needed to further discuss these repercussions with Gordon.  
They had been working together on a particular Intergang gun smuggling issue for months now.

Batman needed to confirm the latest information, and sabotage their ultimate goal. Rumours of a high powered weapons shipment, along with armour piercing ammunition had Batman, Gordon and the GCPD Taskforce concerned.  
Police issue bullet proof vests were no protection if the delivery to Gotham's underworld took place.

The shipment needed to be intercepted before the streets ran red with blood.

He had to meet with Penguin.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Oswald Cobblepot sat in his office.   
His diminutive stature lost in the plush fabric of his huge chair as he drummed his fingers on the solid wooden desk before him.

Intergang, not only in Gotham, not only in his territory, but in his club!  
He may not have his beak stuck into messy criminal hotspots, but he still looked out for his area and those that dwelt within.  
Even if it meant working with the Dark Knight and the police.

He knew it was a risk but when one of his best 'entertainers' was currently laid up in hospital after an altercation the previous evening, his clenched fist lashed out and scattered the neat pile of paperwork from his desk.

The contemptuous cad had left a measly few thousand as recompense when confronted.   
The attitude of the newest members of Intergang left a lot to be desired.   
Compared to these latest interlopers, the old school Intergang network had been angels.

He was furious and wanting revenge, when a shadow from his window drew his attention.  
Squawking inadvertently when he saw the dark figure filling the window frame, he reached for his trusty umbrella.

Batman notes Penguin's action and makes his opening statement, questioning the current situation.   
"Put the umbrella down, unless you're expecting rain inside tonight?"the raspy voice growls.

 

The Penguin grips his umbrella, keeping a wary eye on the dark figure as it flows in from the window to stand in the shadows in the corner of the room.

"You?" the old bird squeaks, looking about furtively  
"Birds are natural predators of Bats, or haven't you heard"

Batman reaches for a Baterang, keeping his hands concealed and drops into defensive mode at hearing their prearranged code. The room is under surveillance but he can't show that he is aware of it yet.

"What are you doing here?" Penguin asks "This is harassment of an honest businessman"  
These words are for Batman to know that their targets are still on the premises.

"Word on the street is your old friends, Intergang, are back in town" Batman has to play the game until he can assess the situation, find out what Penguin's position is, and choose which strategy he intends to use to their advantage.

A signal has been sent to Gordon and his team via a remote on his belt. They'll know to hold back until they get further instructions.

 

"Them?" Cobblepot feels his anger increase at the name.  
"Those interlopers think they can come into my city"

At a menacing growl, he changes his words  
"They don't belong in Gotham"

 

His arms wave around "They're hooligans, ruffians, with no concept of how things are done."

Batman ponders the meaning of this statement. Obviously they are using intimidation and threats on Penguin and they know how much the methods are resented.

From the corner, white lenses follow every movement, looking where Penguin looks.  
He's counted 3 cameras. Penguin looks at him for a long moment, then starts speaking in a high pitch.   
The tone alone lets Batman know that he must allow Cobblepot to subdue him.  
The alternative leaves them with less control, they had also prepared specific tactics for this situation.

 

"They put Aunt Arctic in the hospital" the rotund man continues.  
"She had just finished her set and they put the hard word on her.   
She's a singer, not a whore"

So they've threatened and/or injured Penguin's staff.  
Batman continues to listen carefully at Oswald's words and watching for movement.

Penguin is ranting now.  
"Maurice told them if they wanted whores, to go elsewhere.   
I'm a respectable businessman"

 

Upon hearing this, the vigilante snorted.

 

Penguin shook his umbrella at him.  
"I am. I don't run with those hoodlums"

 

Batman uncrossed his arms and looked at Penguin.   
For a moment, he wasn't sure he was capable of being allowed to be captured

His gaze takes in the rest of the office so when Penguin clicks the handle of his umbrella, it isn't in his obvious line of sight. The tip flies forward to bury itself into his chest.

 

His arms come up to grasp the wires attached but an electrical current prevents him from pulling the metallic tip from where it has embedded into his flesh, past the protection of the suit.

 

"They also told me that they would pay handsomely for your pathetic carcass." Penguin muttered "And that men would be staying in MY club to ensure you wouldn't visit to get information from me. They hold Maurice captive and threaten to burn the place, so really I had no choice Bat"

He presses the button again to send more current into the shuddering figure writhing on the floor.

"Sorry Bats, we'll get through this if you play your part" is the last thing Bruce hears as darkness closes in.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A pressure on Bruce's arms wake him, agony ripples through his body as his muscles cramp.  
His wrists throb painfully as they are chained above his head.  
Standing on the tips of his toes to relieve some of the pressure of his bindings, he takes stock.

 

He is alone.  
The second thing he notices is that he appears to be in a cellar.  
Probably still in the Iceburg Lounge.  
There are indistinct voices nearby but he can't make out what they're saying.

 

There are no windows, so he can't tell how long he's been held.

 

There's a kerfuffle nearby, Batman let's his body remain limp.  
Except for the electric shock, and chains around his wrist, he appears to be unharmed. So far, so good.  
He'd expected the electrical shock but even at a lower setting, it still hurt like hell.

 

Penguin and some masked goons enter.  
A step ladder is placed next to him and Penguin waves away the hired help.

 

The two are left alone.  
Penguin mounts the steps which brings them face to face.

 

"Batman" the portly man begins "I know you are awake. I didn't use a high setting and I'm supposed to be here to farewell you before these Intergang cads cart you off"

 

Batman lifts his head. Blank lenses make Penguin shiver.  
"Now don't be like that. I had no choice. You knew it was coming, neither of us knew when"

He looks around to ensure they are alone.  
"Where is it?" he whispers

 

Knowing it's useless to pretend any longer, Batman tilts his head in query.  
His lips are a thin line and he refuses to say anything in case the Bird Brain is compromised or simply changed his mind.

 

Leaning forward as close as he dares, the bird themed criminal lowers his voice and talks fast. "They're moving you soon, so unless you want to end up Bat Guano, tell me where your emergency beacon is"

 

Although Penguin can't see it, Bruce raises his eyebrow inside his cowl.  
The flappable man is still ultimately playing along.

The voice continues in a barely heard rush  
"They're definitely bringing in the guns, lots of them. Special bullets too, to take out your Super Buddies. In a week, there's a boat arriving at the docks. Something on board to destroy Superman" he stops for a moment and listens as boots pass the door.

 

As the sound fades, he continues "Intergang has no place in Gotham. They are bullies and miscreants. I want them gone Bats, you hear me?"

 

Batman nods his head once.

 

"I had to zap you because they were watching me" Penguin continues to whisper "But we never spoke of any tracking devices or gadgetry you had in mind for your incarceration. I don't have much time."

 

Batman smirks.  
Penguins not a bad old duck after all.

 

"So where's the button I need to press to alert your pals" he continues.

 

"Just press against my left ear, there's a communicator" Batman growls quietly.

 

Penguin just looks at him "The pointy Bat ear or where a normal human ear would be?"

 

"Human" the Bat grits as the door is flung open.

 

"And this will be the last time you cause me trouble" Penguin shouts, slapping him on the left side of his head. There's no click of the communicator engaging.

 

"Is that all you've got?" Batman growls loudly  
"Again" he whispers.

 

Penguin slaps him again, this time the click of the communicator engaging can be heard past the ringing in his ears.

 

Penguin climbs down the step ladder and shakes his umbrella, putting on a good act for the two well dressed men in suits that entered the room.

 

"OK Penguin" the first guy says "you've kept your end of the bargain. Our men will leave your business alone.

 

"I should hope so" Oswald complains loudly.  
"First you make yourselves at home here, then harm my staff, holding them hostage. Now you've got the Batman prisoner in my cellar. The IceBurg Lounge is too good for the likes of you"

 

In his ear, Batman can hear Cyborg recording the information for his teammates, as they had prearranged.

 

"First" Batman says to get the attention of his fellow Leaguer as well as the sharply dressed thugs.  
"Why is Intergang in Gotham?" The Dark Vigilante questions.

 

The second goon punches the Caped Crusader in the gut for an answer.

 

"Now, now" the first one holds the fist of the second.

"We aren't here for you Bat" the man continues "You were just unlucky enough to visit your old Pal Penguin and we couldn't have word get out that we were really after the SuperDoofus" the man giggles at his own poor humour.

 

"You're not even a real threat Batman" the second thug sneers.  
"You'll just be a handy hostage"

 

"Whatever you're planning, just take it away from here. I hear the Narrows is pleasant this time of year" Although Batman was aware that Cobblepot was playing a part, he knew that the businessman didn't want damage to his premises again once the Justice League showed up.

 

"I've heard the Narrows suits you more so than Intergang Bird Brain" he taunts.

 

Both the expensively attired goons are openly laughing at the animosity between Gotham's famous denizens.

 

"There's a fish canning factory near the old Ace Chemical Plant that would be perfect for some Bat slicing & dicing" Penguin continues to give important information and now the team will know where they're headed.

 

"That place?" Batman sneers "it's so old, wasn't it built in the 40's, when you were still in school?"

 

"Don't push your luck Bat Mince, they'll ice you well enough when your friends set off the trap that's been laid for them" Penguin waddles around the chained prisoner like he is King of the Hill.

"Once SuperFreak shows..."  
But the Penguin is interrupted before he can lay out the plan.

 

"Enough" says a new voice.  
"Do the villains of Gotham always so readily give away their plans?"

 

Penguin looks at the newcomer "I didn't have any problems capturing the winged rodent. It's your job to deal with him" Cobblepot sniffs

 

"Good help can be so difficult to find" Batman smirks.

 

Penguin glares at him for good measure.

 

Batman hopes that the rest of the Justice League will go along with his plan for this operation, and not just rush in as a certain blue clad hero is perpetually ready to do.

 

"Indeed it is, but it's something you won't have to worry about. Lights out Batman" the Boss follows his statement with a injection to the Dark Knight's exposed neck using a previously unseen syringe.

 

"You'll be having interesting dreams while not causing any trouble for us.

 

Oswald Cobblepot makes his way towards the door when he is stopped.  
"Not so fast Pengy old pal" the leader looks down at the host of the club.  
"Can't having you singing like a Canary to the cops"

 

"I'm implicated in your nefarious plot, why would I squeal?" the Penguin grumbles.  
"You forced me to do your dirty work, against my wishes. I've done everything you asked, so leave me in peace"

 

The Big Boss just nods his head in agreement, then motions for his other two hired guns to unchain the Bat.

 

As the caped figure is dragged away, Oswald's face transforms into a Pen-grin.  
Between Batman and himself, they gave enough information to ensure these new Intergang members would most certainly be arrested.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Justice League are told what Batman has done.
> 
> Not everyone is happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next part of the monster chapter that turned into more than it started out as.
> 
> I have completed up to chapter 11, which I'm working on.
> 
> So there won't be long waits, but the chapters will be short for now.
> 
> Better short and frequent than long and long, right?
> 
> Thanks again to LilysBooks, without her help, I probably would have given up on the whole story. Her enthusiasm has kept me going.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy, and we are building up to something, so please be patient with me?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Chapter 6   
Big Blue BooB

Cyborg gathered all the data that was heard from Batman's comm.  
He had also confirmed it with Gordon, who told Cyborg about the signal he had received. More evidence that Batman knew what he was doing and things seemed to be going in the expected directions.

As the other League members filed into the conference room, they began to notice the lack of a particular member, Batman.

 

Arrow was the first to ask "Are we waiting on big, dark and gloomy? Or can we get this meeting underway? You did say it was urgent" he said to the young man.

 

Victor cleared his throat, before beginning  
"Batman has been captured by Intergang"

 

The words were barely out of his mouth before Superman was standing and heading towards the door.

 

"Please, Superman, wait? There's more information" Cyborg didn't want to look at those red tinged eyes.

 

Diana reaches out to Kal but he wrenches himself from her grip.

"Bruce could be in trouble" he growls.

 

Martian Manhunter raises an eyebrow and states "I believe it will be in our best interest, and the interests of seeing Batman unhurt, for us to know the full scope of the situation" his logical voice states.

 

Superman is not feeling logical at the moment though.

 

"Let's hear him out" Hawkgirl adds.

Arthur and Diana nod in agreement.

At the other end of the table, Oliver and Dinah wait patiently.

 

"Well don't keep us in suspense" the Flash nervously taps his foot under the table.

 

Cyborg begins to share the information that he and the Dark Knight had been accumulating. He shared the speculation of the previous months work surrounding the gun smuggling component of Intergang's latest plot.  
"We were preparing to deliver our findings at the next meeting."

 

Victor continued before he could be interrupted "That was until earlier today when one of Batman's informants came through with some vital new information.  
Armour piercing rounds are set to be released onto Gotham's streets and the GCPD within the week."

 

A gasp of alarm echoed this news.

 

"But what about Batman?" Superman stubbornly asks.

 

"I'm getting to it Superman, just a few more moments, please?" Cyborg asks, hoping to calm the Kryptonian.

"Batman went to the Penguin for confirmation of his informants details, when he was caught" 

 

Superman's hands curl into fists but he allows Victor to continue.

 

"This was all part of the operation Batman's conclusions led us to, with Penguin's cooperation. We're not sure exactly what or how it happened, but his communicator was turned on during interrogation"

 

"Interrogation?" This time Superman's fists crack the large table "torture?" He asks.

 

"Unlikely" Victor answers hastily.

The young Leaguer explained the situation, why Penguin was working with them, countermeasures for the different scenarios, which included Batman knowingly being captured to obtain the vital shipping manifest and data that had been previously unknown. 

He didn't know how Penguin managed to deliberately turn the communicator on. Despite the presence of several of Intergang's members, both Batman and Penguin were able to provide valuable new intelligence.

"We have confirmation that Intergang is planning action against the Justice League, laying traps for our members and waiting on this final shipment that contained an unknown variable capable of taking out Superman."   
Cyborg took a breath and looked at the faces of his friends around the table.

 

They all looked worried, except for Superman who was pacing agitatedly.

 

"We aren't sure when the shipment is due, only that it's coming in through Gotham sometime in the next week. Batman is being held as a hostage to prevent any interference with their operation but we know he plans to bring them down from the inside."  
Cyborg then brings up a map of Gotham. 

The docks are highlighted and so is the IceBurg Lounge.

 

A moving dot is making its way towards the Narrows.

"Is that Batman?" Superman asks, indicating the moving dot.

 

Victor nods. "They're planning to take him to an old factory. We have the address thanks to the efforts of Batman and Penguin. The building is old and there are many options available to us for infiltration."

 

"Infiltration? We should get Batman back before they get him to the location" the Super raises his voice "Once he's locked down, it will be harder for him to escape or for me, I mean us, to get him back".

 

"Aw Supes, you know Batman will want the info as a priority over his rescue. We all know the bad guys underestimate Bats every time, so he'll be fine big guy" Flash intercedes "He always has contingency plans and I'm sure this is no exception. He'll have 24 planned scenarios that we don't want to mess up for him"

 

Clark looks at the others seated at the table.   
He sees concern but no open worry.   
They all had faith in Bruce's strategic abilities but Clark needed Bruce back now!

 

Criminals had Bruce and who knows what they would do to him while they held him hostage. 

 

Torture and all sorts of perils filled his mind. His imagination of horrors being perpetuated was overwhelming him.

How could they be so calm?

He had to take control of the situation, Bruce had to come back to him, NOW!

The thought of losing this truly special man was breaking his heart.

He knew what he had to do.

 

"So where is this factory Cyborg? How do we plan to infiltrate?" The Kryptonian seemed to be calm when he asked this.

 

It was a relieved Victor that indicated the location on the map. As he started to extrapolate, there was a rush of air and the conference room door stood open.

 

Faces turned towards Flash who shrugged his shoulders "wasn't me" he said.

 

Oliver turned to Dinah and said loudly "What's the bet our Super Friend has gone off ignoring Bruce's careful, long term mission plan and is rescuing one pissed off Bat right about now?

 

Dinah flicked her hair and answered "I'm not taking those odds. But who wants to guess where Bats is going to shove some kryptonite when he works out all his strategising and months of work has been shot to hell?"

 

"Oooh ooooh pick me, I bet I know" said Hal, the green Lantern had been very quiet throughout the whole meeting.

 

"More importantly though, anyone want to try explaining what's going on with Superman lately? He's not usually so irrational or possessive, especially when there's a logical BatPlan™ to follow. He always sticks by Batman's strategies" Arrow addressed the group.

 

"I suggest now is not the time for speculation of those matters, as Superman will already be halfway to Gotham" Martian Manhunter reminded the group.

 

They all agree. 

Martian Manhunter will advise the GCPD and coordinate evacuation from the Watchtower. 

Cyborg will try to hack any information from Intergang's base, if there's anything left.

Arrow and Dinah will help with damage control and evacuations, clearing the path the vehicle is expected to take.

Wonder Woman will be on standby in case someone needs to subdue Superman.  
She looked surprisingly happy at this.

Green Lantern offered to be the one to subdue Batman from shoving Kryptonite up Superman's left nostril, but no one was convinced he wouldn't be egging the Dark Knight on.

Flash was on emergency evacs, getting people to medical treatment if necessary.

Aquaman would coordinate from the docks to assist the fire department and harbourmasters.

 

With everyone on task, the teleporters went into action as the heroes dispersed.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter for you all.
> 
> Batman is suffering the effects of drugs, or is he?
> 
> Superman continues to act strangely, why?
> 
> Hmmmmmm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter posting is inspired by reading some great fic here by other writers.
> 
> Their stories aren't really related to mine, I'm just so amazed by the talented people here.
> 
> Every story I read helps me learn and gives me new ideas for twists.
> 
> I just want to say Thankyou to all the amazing writers on AO3 who inspired me to be brave enough to write and post my own stories.
> 
> And a big Thankyou to everyone that has commented and/or left Kudos.  
> It always makes me smile so much, and encourages me to write more for you all.
> 
> I appreciate that you take the time to do this for me.  
> It really means the world to me.
> 
> Finally, I hope this slow burn fic isn't going too slow. I don't want it to be boring. I really want to build the drama.
> 
> No note is ever complete without my thanks to LilysBooks.  
> Keep your head up and keep smiling.  
> I appreciate all that you do.
> 
> Cheers,  
> The Crazy Bat ;)
> 
>  
> 
> Post Script: I don't know what happened, but every time I tried to copy this chapter from Notes, it would screw up what was pasted, and crash Notes.  
> I manually restyled this chapter 3 times. And I have no idea what is up with the formatting.  
> I'm literally tearing my hair out.  
> I was going to leave it and try posting it again tomorrow but I made promises.  
> So I was determined to get it done.
> 
> I apologise for the weirdness of the chapter, and I hope all will be well, and my other chapters already written are safe, after a reboot.
> 
> Fingers and toes crossed everyone.
> 
>  
> 
> *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Bruce's head throbbed, but that seemed to be par for the course these days.

 

His vision blurred and he knew his faculties were impaired by whatever they had injected him with.

He felt his balance was out of whack, and there was weird tingling in his body.

The cotton mouth feeling associated with high level medication seemed to be slowly dissipating.

 

The sound of an engine, and bumps in the road, indicated he was being moved.

 

A check of himself showed the idiots had neglected to remove his belt or any of his other gear.  
Clicking in his ear also meant the communicator was still on.

His hands were bound behind his back, and something had his legs tied together.  
He could escape easily but he needed time to obtain that shipping information.

 

Opening one eye carefully from behind his lenses showed him to be alone in the back of a van.  
Were these people amateurs or just that confident, he pondered.

 

As quietly as he could, he spoke "Batman to Watchtower"

 

Instantly, his communicator responded with the calm tones of J'onn Jones.  
"Batman, what is your situation?"

 

Not knowing how much time he had, he spoke "I'm currently a prisoner of Intergang, in a van, probably headed for the Narrows"

 

"Cyborg was able to obtain that information earlier Batman.

I need to know if you are in danger and what your plans are.

We don't have much time" the Martian replied.

 

"Good.

I wasn't sure if Cyborg would register the needed data through my communicator.

I hope this means he was given the opportunity to brief the team.

We've worked too hard to fall short now.

I'm currently suffering mild injuries but nothing severe or life threatening.

My plan is to remain a prisoner until I can obtain the data regarding a shipment due next week.

It's a struggle to remain a prisoner, it's habit to escape bonds.

 

However, this particular group of people seem to have no idea and appear to have severely underestimated me.

I have the situation under control and have prepared contingencies to break this gun smuggling ring from the inside once the gaps of vital intel are filled."

Batman needed to reassure the League and ensure they allowed him enough time to complete the mission.

 

Wait, J'onn said they didn't have much of that. It took a moment for the vigilante to work out why.

 

"Don't tell me Superman is on his way to rescue me, please?"

Batman would have face palmed if he could when J'onn confirmed that was exactly what was happening.

He had to satisfy his frustration by banging his head against the floor of the vehicle several times and biting his tongue at the scathing remark threatening to pass his lips.

Taking a few meditative breaths in order to him to calm himself before he trusted himself to speak again wasn't easy while drugged with an unknown substance, .

 

"Put him through to my communicator J'onn, I've got to stop him" he groaned when he was able to think past the building anger rolling inside his stomach.

The hammering inside his head seemed to increase, despite his efforts.

 

"Good luck with that, he's not exactly himself at the moment" Martian Manhunter said before the distinctive click of the channel change was heard.

 

"Superman, stand down" Batman growled through gritted teeth.

 

"Br....Batman" the Kryptonian stuttered.  
"I'm on my way Batman, I'll have you out in a moment"  
Clark could swear tears were streaming from his eyes with the relief of hearing that gruff voice.

 

"No, I need you to stand down.

You have to let them take me" the thundering that had been in his head settled somewhat at hearing the Kansan Hero's voice.

 

"But, I can't" the tears were there for sure now.

"They might hurt you, or worse. I can't"

 

Batman felt like he was going to burst a blood vessel when he heard the plaintive voice.

Whatever these drugs were, they were keeping him mentally off balance as well as physically nauseous.

He could feel his stomach trying to crawl out of his throat.

Breathing through his nose, he spoke carefully and clearly for the dim witted Boy Scout.

"You can and you will. I've been planning for this for months, I need the final pieces to put it all together."

 

The Bats voice sounded tinny in Superman's ear.

 

"I can't B, it hurts.

My head won't stop pounding and the churning in my gut makes me sick just thinking about you trapped" Superman moaned.

He'd stopped flying and was floating in mid air, his hands pulling at his hair.

Every instinct was screaming at him and he couldn't make sense of it all.  
All he knew for sure was that He Needed Bruce.

 

Bruce's own mind caught on to the words, head pain, stomach pain, those were his symptoms but they were apparently shared by the Man of Steel.

Had he been injected with a kryptonite variant that was effecting Clark even at this distance?

What else could effect them both similarly and simultaneously?

Batman didn't have time for this.

He had to put it aside for the moment.

He gritted his teeth as his stomach gave another lurch.

 

The Mission, Gotham, everyone needed him to be Batman and Intergang wasn't going to give him time to dwell on some unknown symptoms.

He knew he could complete the mission successfully if the corn husker would leave him the fuck alone.

The struggle to control the drugs in his system were not helped by Superman behaving irrationally.

He took a deep breath, refocusing his mind away from the physical distractions, he needed Clark to back the hell off.

Blaming the drugs for his growing anger, he tried to think past the pain and emotion that were overwhelming him.

 

 

"Damn you Kal, listen to me" he growled in his most menacing voice "I'll make sure you'll regret it if you ruin this, I'll never fucking forgive you. NEVER KAL!!!!"

 

As soon as the words left Batman's lips, he was doubled over in pain, bile rising in his throat.

There was a tugging feeling pulling at his insides and his whole body went taut, ready to snap.

Muscles spasmed and cramped painfully.

He felt his heart rate increase rapidly, his breathing became short, panting with a lack of oxygen, his chest constricted and he knew he was about to lose consciousness again.

 

It must be the drugs they shot him up with acting up again, there was no other explanation for it in Bruce's mind.

 

As darkness grasped him fully, he hoped the idiotic Boy Scout would listen and wasn't going to ruin this operation.

*~*~*~*~*~*


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Bat is captured.
> 
> Superman went after him.
> 
> The Bat ordered him away, before succumbing to symptoms.
> 
> Two heroes suffer.  
> Their suffering sounds suspiciously similar to each other's.  
> Why?
> 
> What will Superman do?
> 
> Will the Batman complete his mission and retrieve the information?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this chapter is much later than anticipated.
> 
> I have been having problems, technical problems.
> 
> I write in Notes on an iPad.  
> It started randomly crashing out of its apps.  
> Very annoying when I was just finishing up first Beta of another author's chapter, and had to start all.over.again.
> 
> I also Lost All My Pre-Written chapters of this story.  
> I've only managed to recover anything from sent emails to LilysBooks and Yamad-a.
> 
> I am quite disheartened by this loss. There were many chapters not shared via email, and they are just gone.
> 
> So, ultimately, I am not happy with how this chapter turned out.
> 
> But in an attempt to move forward and not give up this story in Apple fuelled hatred, I give you chapter 8 (ate!!)
> 
> I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Chapter 9 is one sentence from completion, and will be posted as soon as I find the energy to finish.
> 
> Many thanks to friends who have listened to me whine about stupid Notes.
> 
>  
> 
> *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

*~*~*~*~*~*

Chapter 8 - Stow your Batman securely, contents may move during transport & turbulence.

 

Clark flew straight up above the stratosphere, flipped his com off and shouted, yelled, screamed.  
He hurt so bad and he let it all out until he felt empty.

 

There was little air for the noise to travel, but the depths of his despair were universal.  
Eyes glowing, his heat vision fired random bursts off into space.

 

He felt like he had no control over his powers and all his senses wanted to hone in on Batman.

 

Hearing the Dark Knight's words had broken him.  
Why was this happening?  
The other members of the League seemed happy enough to let Batman be caught, said his tactics were sound.  
Who knew what Intergang had planned for his Bruce.  
Why couldn't they just let him get Bruce out of harms way?

 

They didn't understand that he Needed Bruce.  
Hell, he couldn't understand it himself.

 

He vascilated between logic telling him to do as Batman asked, that it wasn't worth the disdain he would see in those arctic blue eyes, and an uncontrollable urge to rush down and grab Bruce, consequences be damned.

 

Bruce's voice echoed repeatedly, synchronised with the beating of hammers inside his skull.  
He tried to shake his head, to get his thinking back on track, but his body pulsed in agonising waves. 

He couldn't think straight.

 

The logical part of his brain still functioned, but the emotional instincts were so powerful and overwhelming, drowning out his normal thought processes.

 

For example, part of him was telling him to go to the Fortress, to discover why his behaviour was changing so drastically, why it seemed to be increasing frequency, that something was very wrong. 

 

The other part of him just thought of Bruce, holding Bruce, kissing Bruce, finding Bruce, Bruce, Bruce.  
His blood pounded the name - Bruce.  
His hands twisted and clenched but they were empty - Bruce.  
His muscles spasmed - Bruce!  
His heart ached - BRUCE!!

What he was doing - Bruce?

 

The deep voice that reminded him there would be no forgiveness, reverberated through him. 

 

Moisture gathered at the corners of his eyes, only to evaporate before they could form tears.

 

Clark couldn't remember a time when he felt so hopeless, a bleakness overcoming him that left him hollow and empty.  
His heart beat frantically, reaching for something that wasn't there.

 

Although he was in direct sunlight, he didn't feel it's usual warmth filling him with strength and vitality.  
Instead, he was floating aimlessly, nerves twitched at random and he began to shiver in a cold sweat.

 

He shuddered in manifested pain, greater than he had ever felt, worse than Kryptonite.   
A dread feeling rose up in his throat.

 

He felt that strange pull inside him, stronger, more insistent, desperately trying to tell him he shouldn't here but somewhere else. It yanked at his insides.

 

'Listen' he told himself.

 

There it was, that memorised heartbeat.  
It was fluctuating.  
Fluttering like a hummingbirds wings then thudding like heavy thunder.  
It was arrhythmic.  
The regular cycle of its beat interrupted, skipping and straining.

 

He knew then that Batman hadn't told him everything, that he was suffering, that he was alone, that something was seriously wrong, that Batman was at risk, and that he was in even greater pain.  
Somehow, he just knew it.

 

That was when logic and emotion left him.  
He snapped.  
Bruce needed him.

 

Dropping back through the atmosphere, he flew back to Gotham at top speed.  
It didn't cross his mind that he neglected to switch his communicator back on.

 

*~*~*~*

 

Batman fought with everything he had to return to consciousness.  
Static filled his ear from the communicator now that Clark wasn't on the other end.

 

He tried to speculate about what he had been injected with, but it was considerably more difficult for him to function when he couldn't think.  
Not knowing the combination of chemicals meant the toxin antidotes he usually carried with him were useless.

 

Blackness crept in and out of his vision, he was panting, and a cold sweat was making him shiver uncontrollably.  
Moisture was running down from under his cowl, sliding between his shoulder blades on his back, and across his chest and stomach.  
His eyelids grew heavier as his body began to tremble.  
'No' he mentally begged.  
He couldn't afford to keep passing out.

 

Batman passed out.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

The symptoms were very similar to signs of narcotic based drugs.  
He wanted to punch that smug asshole that had drugged him with a foreign substance.

 

Gasping for air as his heart beat frantically, there wasn't enough oxygen, he couldn't breathe.   
Panic set in.  
He rubbed the front of the cowl against his knees, desperately trying to get it off himself.

 

Logically he was trying to convince his mind and body it was the damned drugs.  
Emotionally, inhaling air that his body wasn't registering, he was shaking uncontrollably.

 

Every time he tried to use his learned biofeedback techniques, he failed.  
Using the same methods that worked for him in the past weren't doing anything.  
He sought relief using many different methods known to him.  
Nothing was working.

 

He mentally braced himself for what was coming.

 

He wasn't ready for what hit him, he didn't think he'd ever be ready for this.

 

Within moments, chained behind his back, his hands had stretched into painful shapes.   
Clawing and curling into themselves.  
The tautness travelled up his forearms and locked his elbows.   
By the time his upper arms were straining with the tension, his breathing had gone ragged and raspy.  
Neck muscles stood out like cords and his jaw clamped helplessly shut.  
His back muscles were like bands of iron and his stomach heaved violently.  
Lying helplessly in the back of the van, shooting fire rippled down his groin and his glutes tightened.   
By the time his legs were completely immobilised by the same debilitating muscle cramps, his body spasms elicited groans from his clenched teeth. 

 

Pain!   
The focus he needed to concentrate on the muscle groups and release the painful burn was gone.  
Feeling as if his muscles would snap his bones, he was helpless, writhing and whimpering.

 

The chest constriction and having every throat muscle tighten at once felt like he was suffocating.  
He would have sobbed if he could.

 

Knowing he had to endure so he could get the information he needed was the only thing keeping him sane. Gotham's safety was his only priority.

 

Unknowingly, he whimpered with every contraction and there was no reduction in the intensity. It was like having every muscle in his body switched on and not switched off.

 

His eyesight wavered, the muscles used to focus his vision weren't functioning.

 

With his back arched, he gasped before losing consciousness.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

He dragged himself back to wakefulness.  
Finally, the muscles began to ease.  
Hungrily pulling air into his lungs, he tried to steady his mind and body.  
When he figured out the cocktail of drugs that had been forced into his system, he was going to be sure to repay the favour.

 

As he lay on the hard metal floor, gulping air, completely exhausted, he's not ashamed to admit that whimpers still escaped his quivering body and tears filled his eyes.

 

Allowing himself a few moments of respite, he then attempted to move. It was an anxious few minutes when his body didn't respond and felt overwhelmed by the situation. 

 

Did these drugs have the potential to paralyse him?  
Real fear gripped him as his mind dropped him into a deep pit of utter darkness, with no escape, nothing but emptiness.  
He was familiar with this despair.  
He had wrestled with it many times during his life, starting when he was 8 years old.  
It would not win, even if it had power over him at this moment.

 

A familiar headache that pounded his head snapped him out of it.  
With a groan, he welcomed it almost like a friend.

 

The wrenching tugging feeling in his gut also returned, a kind of push pull sensation that he focused on.  
Like a grapple line, he felt it extending past his body and beyond the van.   
For a brief moment he tried to imagine pulling it in, gathering it up and concentrating on it.

 

It was still a struggle to remain conscious but he drew strength from his invisible safety line and almost felt it thrum in response.

 

*~*~*~*

 

As Superman approached Gotham airspace, he was met by Wonder Woman.

 

"Kal" she said but Superman just growled long and hard at her like a wild animal, his eyes changing to fiery red, before attempting to evade her and turn back onto his flight path.

 

She barrelled straight into him which threw him off course.

 

"You must stop this Kal. Batman doesn't want you to..." she was cut off abruptly as Superman held his palm up in the universal stop gesture.

 

Her words 'Batman doesn't want you' stabbed his consciousness and replayed over and over in his mind.

 

It didn't matter that she had more to say, his brain latched on to those four words.

 

"He needs me Diana" he spat "and I'm going to him. Don't try to convince me otherwise because you can't."

 

Startled by the expression on his face, he slipped past her and hit supersonic speed.  
Diana knew she wouldn't be able to catch him.  
She wouldn't give up though and continued pursuit even if her top speed was considerably less than the Man of Steel.

 

She also notified the Watchtower, which alerted J'onn to switch the Comms channel back to Batman.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

"Watchtower to Batman" the Martian called.

 

There was no verbal response but he could hear Batman struggling to breathe normally between bouts of dry heaving. It sounded as if he was fading in and out of consciousness.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Batman was gasping quietly, trying to breathe normally and gather his wits.  
He had been hit with another drug fuelled episode, and he was trying his methods to recover. Bile kept rising in his throat.  
He hadn't lost consciousness completely that time, but there were still periods of extended darkness that ate at him.

 

He heard J'onn calling him from very far away, but he had no voice to answer with.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

This concerned J'onn more than anything else, Batman sounded like he was in respiratory distress.

 

"Watchtower to all Justice League members. Situation update. Batman may be compromised, but it is unconfirmed at this stage. Wonder Woman was not able to stop Superman, only delay him for a short time. He is not on Comms, be prepared and be safe. Watch for Batman's signals if you see him"

 

J'onn couldn't stop to think about why Superman was behaving erratically when he had so much to do, but he would ponder these matters later.  
As of this moment, he was most concerned about Batman.

 

The individual League members were pretty much in the same situation.  
They had jobs to do and they'd do them.

 

*~*~*~*

 

Following behind the van, a black town car's rear seat passenger was on the phone.  
"Yes, I understand the severity of the situation Mr... yes, Batman is being taken to the location now but... no there doesn't seem to be any reason to think... I'm sure the shipment will be.... yes, I'll see to it personally"  
He hung up the phone and threw it down on the seat in disgust.  
Seeing the driver glance at him in the rear view mirror, he said "Keep eyes on the van but stay back." He huffed.

 

The black town car followed at a sedate pace.

 

*~*~*~*

 

Batman needed to focus, stay alert, listen for details.  
Anger boiled in the pit of his gut.  
This risk of a new weapons shipment arriving in Gotham was unacceptable.

 

However, he knew the risks when he allowed himself to be captured.  
He accepted it.

 

What he hadn't taken into account were the mystery drugs in his body that had been wreaking havoc, making a mockery of his training and abnormally stubborn self control. 

 

He was failing.  
Batman was not used to failing.  
He had a mission, and he wasn't going to let down his city or its people.  
Even if it killed him.

 

Even as he thought it, painful nerve spasms reminded him that it might indeed kill him.  
Shaking his head, he refocused once more.

 

His muscles scream as he leverages his torso against the rear door until he's on his knees.  
He knew he was restrained with chains, so trying to get to a baterang from his belt was pointless.  
The small filthy window is in the rear door of the van, through it he can barely see anything but he recognises glowing shop signage as it speeds past.   
He can't reach the window to see out, but he see's the building stretching towards the sky as the van passed them.  
He knows where he is. 

 

Batman smirks.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Every bump and swerve of the van seemed to throw his balance off even further, and with his arms & legs restrained, he had no way of bracing himself.   
During the periods of painful immobility, he couldn't even curl to protect himself.

 

A rough right hand taken by the van sends Batman tumbling back to the floor.

 

As the driving further deteriorated, Batman was sent careening off the sides inside the van harder and faster, which managed to dislodge his communicator and damage it, as his face smashed into the metal.

 

Groaning, he moves towards the rear doors again.  
The ringing in his ears wasn't going to stop him.  
He began to think only of the mission.

 

The initial part of the journey had been sedate, but he lost track when his body started reacting to the foreign substances.  
Now the van was moving erratically, like a trapped animal.  
It was barreling through the streets more and more recklessly.

 

A particularly wicked sharp turn saw him collide bodily with the wheel arch with a sickening wet crunch.  
His chest felt tight and he was panting, unable to inhale properly without pain.  
'Ribs' he thought to himself. 

 

As colours danced across his vision, he felt the muscle spasms starting up again.  
His spirit began to falter as another 'drug enhanced trip' threatens to pull him under.  
All he could do was begin another attempt to control his breathing with damaged ribs.

 

He's hating this helplessness, becoming more determined not to let it overpower him.  
He's the goddamned Batman and there's no way he's going to allow some chemical to have him at its mercy.

 

He's got his back against the rear door with his knees bent, but when his ribs remind him that trying to sit is a bad idea, he attempts to lay flat on the floor and stretch his legs in anticipation of the agonising immobility that is creeping through his body once more.   
He focuses on short shallow breaths.   
His body starts to tremble with the onset of the muscle cramping.  
Thankfully there's nothing in his stomach to throw up, and he's grateful he didn't have a full bladder.

 

The painful cramping has him fully in its grip.  
He refuses to let whimpers pass his clenched teeth as his back arches at the peak of the pain.  
Darkness encloses him once more.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

He's not out for as long this time.  
The periods of pain and unconsciousness are getting shorter.  
He now knows he can do this.  
Calling on his training techniques, it took several long minutes of concentration before his breathing slowed to close to normal.

 

He was starting to beat the chemicals that flooded his body.   
His promise to the mission strengthens him, and he's coming back on target to his purpose.  
He will succeed, his confidence returns.

 

The van's motor can be heard hitting the rev limiter, the sides of the vehicle are scraping parked cars and obstacles in its haste.

 

He had begun to wonder if these idiots actually knew how to drive when the van lurched to a sudden stop, sending Batman flying forward uncontrollably, smashing him heavily into the raw metal plating at the front of the cargo space at high speed.  
Searing agony along his now twisted shoulder was Batman's last straw.

 

Batman was officially pissed now.

 

He tried to kick the wall that separated him from the driver.  
He was going to make the little fucker pay.

 

He was more battered and bruised from the journey in the van than anything else that had occurred previously.   
He was also fighting the effects of Intergang's drug cocktail.  
He was beginning to win that battle.  
It was the drugs that still had him worried.   
Fighting these effects had hampered his work, physically and mentally exhausted him, and he didn't know how long any potential side effects would linger.

 

The drumming headache building up in severity behind his eyes and that insistent pull in his abdomen had to be put aside to deal with later.

 

One thing was certain, the injection hadn't contained any form of pain relief.  
Batman shifted from the truly awkward position he was in up against the thick metal between the cargo area and the cockpit of the van.

 

There was shouting coming from the front of the van and Batman groaned aloud when he heard one of the men shout Superman.

 

At least that explained the increasingly erratic driving and sudden stop.

 

The Big Blue Clod hadn't listened to him.   
Fists clenched painfully inside black gauntlets.  
He'd gone through Hell with these drugs in his system for a reason, and he still didn't have the shipping information for the gun drop.

 

The pulse in his temple started to throb erratically.  
He tried to kick the wall of the van again.

 

Batman may be in a world of pain, but it was nothing compared to what he was going to do once he got his hands on the fucking SuperTwit!!!

 

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Chapter 9 - Captain Oblivious


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Superman has retrieved his Bat.
> 
> Batman doesn't seem happy.
> 
> Clark is confused.
> 
> Our Kryptonian hero just wants to care about what's precious to him, and wonders what the fuss is all about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was meant to be funny, but it has also turned a little sweet.
> 
> I couldn't help it knowing the future of the boys.  
> There is a dark future ahead, so let the boys have their moments while they can.  
> Or in this case, obliviousness.
> 
> Chapter 10 needs heavy rejigging.  
> I'm jigging, I'm jigging.  
> *jigs some more*
> 
> Chapter 11 is wip.
> 
> I can't guarantee how long these will take.
> 
> I'm still grumbling about my tech, or lack of.
> 
> I do hope you enjoy the humour though ;)
> 
>  
> 
> *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Chapter 9 - Captain Oblivious

 

Batman was fuming, bruised, drugged, sick to his stomach and that damned headache was at the back of his mind drumming its own unique tune.  
Combined they all made it impossible to think. 

As he attempted to gather his wits, the roof of the van peeled back with the sound of tearing metal and there floated Superman.

A smirking Superman.  
  


Unfortunately, this meant Batman had a convenient target for his ire.  
  
  


"What did I tell you?" He growled.

 

"Not now B" Superman growled back.  
He drifted inside the van where he gently picked up Batman from the floor before floating out above the chaos.

 

"Not now?" Bruce spluttered.  
Bruce could feel his blood pressure rising, along with his temper, as Superman manhandled him.  
Immobile due to his restraints, he grit his teeth together and swallowed against the acid taste once again rising in the back of his throat.

Months of work, not only by him, useless because this alien hick couldn't follow his simple directions.

And all he could say was 'Not now?'  
  


The Bat put his energy into deep, calming breaths before he threw the tantrum of the century.  
Surprisingly, his churning gut stopped trying to exit through his face.  
The breeze chilled his damp skin and he started to shiver despite the suit.

 

All Clark could hear was Bruce's heart beating.  
It wasn't galloping along like he heard earlier, but it wasn't back to normal yet either.  
The wrenching, thrumming, tugging sensation inside him was settling down and he was inexplicably happy.  


Batman may be a little upset, but Clark could admit to himself that he was overjoyed to have his Bat safely back where he belonged.  


Floating sedately, Clark let himself be reassured by the weight in his arms.  
Looking down at Batman's cowled visage, he could tell the vigilante was seething.  
Clark couldn't help but grin when he noticed Batman's clenched jaw.

Once Bruce realised he was safe, Clark would gladly help the Bat relax.

Maybe Bruce would even give him a kiss in thanks, he pondered hopefully.

 

"You idiot" Batman spoke in a deadly flat tone "This was a planned operation. Cyborg and I.."

 

"Yes, yes, I heard what Cyborg said.  
You put yourself at risk.  
Again.  
And now look at you, hurt and upset." Superman replied.

Using his visual prowess, Superman scanned the Dark Knight.  
He just needed the reassurance that Bruce was alright.  


It came as something of a shock to see the injuries under the uniform.  


Anger boiled up inside him and he wanted to get his hands on the thugs that dared such grievous harm to his precious person.  


It was no wonder Bruce was a little pissy if his genius BatPlan™ had gone so wrong.  
Clark was just glad he'd saved his Bat in the nick of time by the looks of it.

His heart thudded loudly as he continued to view the extent of the damage.  
Clark just wanted to hug Bruce so that Bruce wouldn't feel so bad about the failure of his plan.  
The World's Finest would go together next time to ensure success.  
He tried to gentle his hands holding the abused body.

 

"Hurt and upset" Batman repeated the words he couldn't believe he'd just heard.  
Dizziness overwhelmed him again for a moment and his vision flared, his tired muscles started to tense again.  
Bruce stubbornly refused to pass out.  


Still wearing restraints, he was trying to shift position to relieve some of the pressure on his shoulder, which resulted in a yelp of pain.

 

Superman, still dismayed at the tally of injuries Bruce had suffered, was taken by surprise and felt the Caped Crusader start to slide against Clark's softened grip. 

When Clark pulled the dark hero against his body, to arrest the downward movement, Bruce inhaled sharply.  
A goofy grin graced Clark's face until he heard Bruce's short, sharp gasps for air.  
This wasn't Mr PoutyBat's brooding game, this was something else.

Looking down, a frown creased Superman's forehead when he noticed the ribs.  
The Kryptonian was now flustered.  
How was he meant to carry Bruce to safety when every touch brought a reminder of the unacceptably extensive list of injuries and caused pain?  
His heart twisted in his chest.

If only he'd been faster, he agonised to himself, Bruce might have been spared some or all of the extra wounds.

This is why the other Leaguers should have let him leave to rescue Bruce as soon as he'd been made aware of the situation.  
His brow furrowed again as he followed the train of thought.  
That Penguin! Obviously the waddling whacko had double crossed Batman.

 

But then why had Batman ordered Superman away, to let himself become a prisoner and potentially subject himself to further torture?

 

He was missing something.  
It wasn't obvious to him yet.

 

Superman gazed down at the man he had rescued.  
The lower half of his face that was visible under the cowl was twisted in a grimace of pain, teeth clamped together. It looked uncomfortable to Clark.  
Bruce wasn't saying much, which was understandable.

 

The other Justice League members seemed to be converging on his position.

 

Instinctively, he pulled the wounded Batman closer to his chest as Diana came into view.  
She was still a few kilometres out but Clark hadn't forgotten her words, or that she had tried to delay him from the rescue Batman so obviously needed.

Well wasn't she going to be apologetic when she got here.  
Clark couldn't help feeling a little smug.

 

Green Lantern was much closer, as he came around a building that was only a block away.  
At least Hal hadn't tried to stop Superman, or spoken against him at the meeting.

 

Batman went stiff in his arms. Clark squeezed him gently and rested Bruce's face in the crook his neck, and although Bruce went very very tense, and arched into him, nothing was said. 

Clark could feel the puffs of warm breath on his neck, short little gasps and the softest flutter of lips against Clark's skin with a tiny whimper that made Clark shiver.  
Bruce's heart had started to speed up, Clark's own also gave a lurch of affection.  
Bruce was quivering in his arms and Clark smiled.  
  
  


"Just a little longer Bruce, hang in there" he spoke gently into the top of Bruce's head.  
He'd have his Damsel Bat back to the Manor in a short while where they could be with each other without having to hide from public view. 

Although he did have to admit these tiny displays of affection were cute and made him want to wrap himself around Bruce and kiss all his aches better.  
Bruce sighed a small moan and went limp.

Clark was glad Bruce was finally able to relax in his arms.  
It had obviously been a difficult day and he needed some calm.  
He let his tired Bat melt into him, feeling a little intoxicated at the display of trust from Bruce.  
  
  


Clark drifted slowly towards the Green Lantern, not wanting to spoil his special moment with his Special Bat? Special Person? Special Partner? Clark tried the words in his imagination, to get a feel for them, like a trial before he attempted to say them out loud. 

He liked Special Partner, they're already equal partners in The World's Finest after all.  
Maybe that wouldn't be special enough to describe how he felt with Bruce.  
Or how Bruce felt with him.  
Clark thinks 'partners' would be just fine with him but maybe he'd let Bruce say something first.  
Yes, he thinks, Bruce will like that.

There's a smile on his face that's lit up like the sun.

 

Hal raised his eyebrows at what he saw.

Superman was carrying a chained Batman towards him.  
With a deranged sort of grin on his face.

"The chains might explain why you're still alive" Hal commented.  
"But I have to ask the big question here Supes, why is Batman unconscious?"

 

Clark looked confused and was going to ask for an explanation, when he looked down at his precious bundle.  
Was Bruce napping?  
Then he discovered Hal was right!!  
Batman had passed out.  
His body was still rigid and shivering.

"We were speaking a moment ago" the Man of Steel looked like a lost puppy.

 

"Do you know what's wrong with him" Hal asked, looking dubiously at the limp form of Batman being carried by the Plan Buster himself, over to the wrecked van on the street. He raises an eyebrow.

 

"Um, so far I've counted some badly bruised, possibly cracked ribs, a mild concussion, multiple contusions and a dislocated shoulder." Superman said  
"I don't know how he managed to get so injured during one of his famous BatPlans™" Superman's expression was one of puzzlement.

 

Hal just shook his head.  
Diana's thunderous expression was visible as she drew closer.

"The sudden stop at the end not hint enough Big Guy?" Green Lantern asked.

 

"Wha...?" Clark had no clue what Hal was talking about most of the time, so he didn't understand the cryptic message. "Who knows what would have happened if I didn't rescue him when I did"

Clark watched Bruce carefully as he carried his suddenly unconscious cargo away from the carnage of the accident on the street and flew to a nearby rooftop garden above the cacophony.  
Why was he unconscious?

 

Hal raised an eyebrow as they landed, while Superman checked that the rooftop was currently unoccupied.

The pilot was seriously considering if he should text Barry to pick up some popcorn on his way to join them.  
He pulled up a chair and settled in to wait for the Dark Knight to regain consciousness.

Hal had a feeling he could make good money selling tickets to the display of Batman 'explaining' to Superman, and it was no doubt going to include some wild displays of creative kryptonite application.

He sent a text to the other Leaguers to advise their location and updated Batman's current status - unconscious, and expected prognosis - furious, disbelief, gobsmacked. 

Hal also wanted to be sure Batman was ok, the man never admitted to injuries if he could help it.

 

Clark saw a daybed under the shade of a gazebo that offered some privacy while they figured out what to do next. 

Lying Bruce down as gently as he could, he snapped the chains that held Bruce bound. He winced at the awkward angle of the shoulder.  
Why hadn't Bruce said anything if he was in so much pain?  
  
  


Clark was also secretly wishing Hal wasn't with them, so he could kiss those inviting lips until the Dark Knight woke and kissed him back in gratitude.

 

*~*~*~*~*


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Batman wakes up and he seems a bit tense.
> 
> Clark is still confused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been jigging and jagging (is that even a word in this context?)  
> Tired brain is tired.  
> Then this chapter got long, very long.  
> So it's been broken into 3 chapters.
> 
> Now stop that groaning, I'll be posting all 3 chapters at once, ok?  
> Ok? Ok!
> 
>  
> 
> I also know that the story seems to be moving slowly.  
> There is a reason.  
> And I did warn that it was slow burn.  
> Then I decided to get clever and add plot.  
> And I'm still a newbie at this writing fiction thing.  
> And I'm writing the whole story in Apple Notes - don't get me started!  
> And I'm my own Beta.
> 
> So yes, they are excuses, but they're valid to me nonetheless.
> 
>  
> 
> My chapter titles are mostly for my own reference, but I had a couple of compliments on them (Thankyou!), so I'm sharing them as unofficial chapter titles.  
> They're not good enough for Proper chapter titles.
> 
>  
> 
> Please be gentle with me and Most Importantly, Enjoy!
> 
> *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Chapter 10 - Some People Should Let Sleeping Bats Lie or The Bat Wakes

*~*~*~*~*

 

Batman was coming out of his latest drug induced episode to hear voices.  
Familiar voices.  
Familiar voices arguing.  
  


He really wasn't up for this shit right now.  
Taking stock of himself, he was no longer tied up.  
Plus 1 for Team Bat.  
  


Some of his symptoms did appear to be ending.  
Halla-Fricken-lujah!!  
He definitely needed medical assistance after what he'd been through, he was stubborn not stupid, but he was taking that as a win.  
That's 2 for Team Bat.  
  


He was lying down somewhere comfortable.  
Dubious, more input needed for judging.  
  


As his brain finally caught up with recent events, the sound of Superman's voice drifted over to him at exactly the wrong time.  
He had any number of reasons to be pissed at Clark right now, but he didn't want to start 'counting the ways' until he was better informed of current circumstances.  
  


Listening to the varying voices, he identified that the majority of the Justice League was present.  
In Gotham.  
Exactly the circumstances he had been trying to avoid!  
  


He sighed as he started mentally preparing the list of what needed to happen next.  
Cracking an eye open, he saw that the Leaguers had heard his sigh and were waiting with varying expressions on their faces.  
The one face he couldn't see ranged before him right now was Superman's.  
  


Probably for the best, he mused.

 

Diana stepped forward to lay a gentle hand on his forearm  
"Bruce?" She asked softly.

 

"Code names" he tried to growl in his usual gruff tone but what left his lips sounded tired. He didn't speak the words so much as exhale them.  
His throat was dry and sore.

 

"I told you he would be fine. That's our Bats. Tougher than some Intergang goonies" Flash said cheerfully.  
Zipping over, Barry handed Batman an unopened bottle of cold water.

 

Bruce wanted nothing more than to sleep for a week, but as he struggled to undo the bottle, he couldn't help but notice worry on the faces of his compatriots.  
  


Diana sat on the edge of whatever it was he was lying on, and without a word, grabbed the water bottle and cracked the seal, opening it fully before handing it back.  
  


Rolling onto his side and propping himself on an elbow, Batman's hand shook lifting the bottle to his lips. His shoulder screamed at him as he held the bottle, he was trying to limit his expected movement on the joint, he didn't want to give away the extent of his injuries until after he had a clear picture of the current situation.

No one spoke, watching, as the Dark Knight drank slowly.  
His gaze landed on each member in turn. 

 

Arrow and Black Canary stood together, and although they looked laid back, Batman could see the small signs of worry on both their faces.

Dinah kept throwing dark glares over in, what Bruce assumed, was Superman's direction.

 

Green Lantern and Flash were seated at a nearby outdoor setting, with Aquaman standing nearby and participating in the younger heroes conversation.  
There was a debate within the trio that Bruce was not yet aware of, however they all watched Batman with expectant expressions.

 

Cyborg was at a power outlet near an outdoor BBQ.  
He was working with his inbuilt systems to monitor nearby cameras to ensure none inadvertently snapped the gathered assembly.  
The young teen wore a hang dog expression that Batman could empathise with.  
Victor had worked exceedingly hard on the case.  
  
Batman nodded in his direction and Cyborg's expression lifted slightly.

 

Diana looked down on Bruce with obvious concern in her eyes.  
Although, she glanced up occasionally to glare at the final figure in their party.  
Her hand rested on Bruce's arm and 'there' was something that Bruce definitely did not want to think about right now.

The Princess of Themyscira had been asking Bruce on dates for the last few months, and he had relented by agreeing to attend an upcoming charity gala with her.  
He'd even invited her himself when he heard she was going to be there anyway.

No, Bruce did not want to think about it now.

 

Bruce refused to look at where the Kryptonian stood, separate from the group.  
His eyes caught the red boots in his periphery as they took a hesitant step forward, only to shuffle back again.

 

"How long was I out?" His voice sounded a little better for the water, but the strength his tone usually carried was missing.

 

"Close to 10 minutes as close as we can figure" Green Lantern said from his seat. "You were out when I met up with you and...." Hal hesitated to even say the name or reference to the Super in any way.

 

Batman gritted his teeth at the implication of Kryptonian's presence right now.  
He knew he was putting off the inevitable, for now.  
It was making him twitchy.  
"Report" the Dark Knight huffed "any casualties?"

 

"The two occupants of the van are still being cut from the wreckage, but they'll live" Cyborg stated, cycling up a nearby traffic camera to view the crash site.  
He disconnected from the power and moved closer so Batman could see what was on his projected holographic screen.  
  


Batman nodded.

 

"How are you feeling Br...Batman?" Diana asked him.  
Bruce flinched.  
How much to tell them, he pondered.  
  


"I'll be fine. It looks worse than it is" Batman lied through his teeth.

 

Arrow snorted "Considering we can't see much of you in your uniform, that's not saying much Bats"

 

Batman smirked.  
Trust Oliver to be the disbelieving one.  
The archer was just as prone to understating his own injuries as Bruce was.  
  


Batman handed his water bottle to Diana, and reached out to Victor.  
"A hand Cyborg?" He asked.

 

Again, those red boots in his periphery took a step forward, but this time they stayed there.  
Bruce deliberately ignored them.  
  


A cool metallic hand reached towards him.  
Batman gripped the offered hand with his, using the least damaged side of his body.  
The hand pulled him up to sitting position, but before his legs could swing off where he was lying, his body shuddered and he flinched in a familiar pain.  
The damned drugs weren't out of his system yet it would seem!!

 

Cyborg's hand stopped moving and he looked down at Batman.  
It was small, but Batman's whole body had started trembling.  
Cyborg noticed.  
He waited to see what the Dark Knight would need from him.

 

Diana had seen Bruce flinch and didn't wait. She grabbed some nearby cushions and bunched them behind Batman, effectively propping him against the wall that was behind the daybed.  
She watched as Bruce settled back, releasing Cyborg's hand when he was mostly on the cushions.

 

Bruce was trying to control the cramping that was creeping into his limbs.  
His breath quickened and his eyes watered behind the lenses of the cowl.  
If he didn't say something soon, the team would jump to conclusions.  
  


"Dislocated shoulder" he offered by way of explanation.  
He hated to admit to the injury, but he had no doubt that unless he gave them something, they'd start jumping to all sorts of conclusions.  
He didn't have time for it when he needed to see what could be salvaged of the case.  
  


It was time for a distraction until he could get his body back under his control.

 

Batman glared at the group as a whole.  
"Did none of you listen to the contingencies Cyborg and I came up with?" He asked, his voice hoarse as he tried to keep it steady.

 

Now none of the Leaguers would look at Batman.  
His hands spasmed, starting to curl in on themselves.  
He buried them in his cape, out of sight.

 

The rest of the League thought Batman was adjusting the dark material.  
He avoided the sun, and preferred the shadows.  
It was why there were so many rumours of him being a vampire, or demon, or some other nonsense. It's not as if he didn't use it to his advantage either.  
He did wish that Hal wouldn't call him Spooky sometimes, but he'd been called worse and Hal was harmless in using the name.

 

"Sorry Batman, I was unable to retrieve any data, the servers were blown remotely by the time I got there and all the hard drives were melted. There was no physical evidence on site to extrapolate more data either." Cyborg began contritely.

"Not your fault Cyborg" Batman consoled the youth. "But why didn't they listen when you told them of our plans?"

 

It was Dinah that answered.  
"To be fair Batman, we did listen and were willing to trust your contingencies. All except one member" Dinah glared at Superman as she said this last piece.

 

Batman's long exhale would be construed as a sigh.  
A sure sign that it was touchy to bring the Superman issue up yet.

He struggled to keep his arms from locking, but the iron bands around his chest were constricting.  
He needed a distraction for himself this time, to prevent a display of weakness under the influence of the chemicals.

 

Arrow was watching Bruce with narrowed eyes.  
When he saw Batman look at him, he tilted his head in question.  
Bruce just shook his head negatively, however Oliver noticed the unusual stilted and restricted movement, not the Bats normal fluid motion.  
Whatever was happening, Bats didn't want to advertise it.  
  


"Well" Oliver said loudly, drawing everyone's attention.  
"I for one would like to know who owns this rooftop garden" he gestured around them all.  
"Not only to compliment the good use of space"  
Next to him Dinah groaned. 

The rest of the League seemed grateful for the subject change.

 

Bruce knew Oliver was being the distraction he needed.  
He was grateful as his legs locked up.  
He could barely move now, he was struggling to breathe without alerting anyone, his heart rate increased.

The stubborn Bat was going to control his symptoms until he could get home.  
He would run a blood analysis in the Cave.

 

"More to the point" Oliver continued "will they be home anytime soon?"  
He was watching Bats in his periphery.  
Bruce just looked very tense for the moment.

 

"Bruce" Superman murmured.  
He could hear the increase in the heart rate, but Bruce just seemed to be very quiet.  
Clark was confused.  
Bruce hadn't looked at him once since waking.

 

Cyborg had his holographic interface activated once more.  
"Can someone give me the address?" He asked.

 

"On it" answered Flash, who literally ran down the side of the building to read the address plate on the entry.  
He zoomed back up to the roof.

 

"Address downstairs read this apartment's occupant is Marie Stamford."  
Barry rattled off the street address before moving back to the table.  
He reached for a snack, and as everyone looked at him, he said "What? I metabolise quickly" and he bit into the confection with gusto.

 

Cyborg joined Flash at the table and began typing away.  
"Miss Marie Stamford, a student of the arts at Gotham U."  
He typed some more.

"She's listed as in attendance today at the University and has classes until 1400hrs"  
He scrolled through a few screens.

"Her FaceBook and Twitter accounts confirm she's at an early gym class, before her first session at Uni at 0800hrs. It's probable she'll use the gyms facilities to shower and change. It's unlikely she will return here" he added.  
"I guess it's lucky she is at the gym, or she'd still be here"

 

The group was silent then.  
There was tension in the air, a sense of expectation.

Everyone was waiting for Batman to address the elephant in the room, or more accurately, the Super on the roof.

 

Batman was so focused on controlling himself, he didn't see how everyone turned to him.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Superman finally gets a clue, and there's some ass whooping too.
> 
> Batman's temper finally forces him to confess to his injuries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next part, as promised.
> 
> Before the chapter got really long, I was going to call it:  
> The Fridge Door Opens and The Light Goes On, Superman's Moment of Comprehension. 
> 
> But I worried it might have been a bit obscure.
> 
> Kinda like me really.
> 
> The third part should hopefully be up shortly.
> 
> Cheers
> 
> *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Chapter 11  
Bird Calls, Wake Up Calls & Bat Tension.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Diana looked at Batman and felt something was amiss.  
"Bruce? Tell us what's wrong, please?" She pleaded "we can help you"

 

Oliver took a few steps towards the silent member, but was overtaken by Dinah who stormed up to the prone Bat.

 

"Diana" the Canary asked her friend "a little room please? Let me check him out"

 

Diana moved off the daybed, watching Bruce with worried eyes.  
Dinah sat down where Diana had been and reached a hand towards the Dark Knight.

 

"Wait" Oliver said and caught Dinah's wrist.  
The Bat was visibly shaking and was obviously having breathing issues through a tightly clamped jaw.  
  


Dinah turned to look at Oliver but as she went to berate him for interference, she saw the look of worry on his face.

"Oliver?" Dinah queried.  
  


"Give him a moment. If it was life threatening, I'm sure Boy Scout would know and tell us" the archer said.

 

The group looked at the ostracised Blue Clad hero.

 

"It's not life threatening, but I don't know what it is" Clark said with trepidation.  
What was happening to Bruce?  
Clark wanted to know.  
Now that Bruce was safe, why was he behaving so strangely?

 

Bruce knew he was busted, but he had far better control over these episodes than previously. The 10 minute rest had to have helped. The drugs were obviously starting to wear off so there was no need for everyone to get worked up.  
  


"One....minute" he croaked shakily.  
He still couldn't function so he had spoken softly through the gritted teeth. 

 

There was real concern and growing worry now.  
No one had heard Batman's voice so strained, and the shuddering that wracked his body was brutally obvious now.

 

"Bruce" Clark gasped.  
No one noticed him move forwards until he was barely a few meters away from where Batman was arching in pain.  
He used all the different kinds of vision he had to closely look at what was happening.

 

The other heroes recognised the change in Superman's eyes that indicated he was using X-ray vision. It was the only reason that Diana and Dinah didn't try to pull him away forcefully.

 

Batman was still aware. His body was still flushing the drugs from him, and as the terrible arching of his back receded, he knew he was past the worst. The terrible spasms were faster to leave him.  
He still had to endure the slowly dissipating immobility, and it was the first time he was awake for the chemical effects since the shoulder dislocation.  
  


It had been the pain in the shoulder that made him pass out previously.  
He had been unable to say anything to Superman when his last cramps hit because of the angle his shoulder had been at.  
Even now that he was no longer chained and being thrown around the inside of a van like the inside of a tumble dryer, the fact that the joint was unaligned had meant he was hurting, badly.

As his heart beat began to steady, and his breathing evened out, he tried to gauge and listen to his surroundings.

 

"He was in the back of that van" Green Lantern said as he half rose from the table.  
His eyes were glued on Batman.  
Sure, he and Spooky didn't see eye to eye all that often, but he was a teammate and a friend, despite what Bats said.

 

Cyborg brought up the van on his screen again.  
They could see the torn open roof, and the crushed front where it had been stopped by Superman.

 

"He was alone in there when I got him out" Clark said plaintively, not taking his eyes off Bruce.  
He still didn't understand why everyone was mad at him.

 

"Yeah, but what you've got to ask yourself Blue, is if he was restrained and the van was avoiding capture, how would he prevent himself being thrown around inside, especially if he had no way of hanging on?" Green Lantern asked exasperatedly, sitting back down as he observed Batman's breathing was steadying.

 

Clark's brows furrowed and he crossed his arms.  
"So, are you saying he got his injuries from the drivers negligence?" He asked.

 

Hal threw his hands up in the air. "Well I doubt he would have told you on the com to back off if he wasn't peachy"

 

"Superman" Arthur was calm as he spoke "are you saying he got his injuries before transport from this Penguin Palace?"

 

"I think I can help with that question" Cyborg stated confidently.  
He punched in a number on his interface.  
The group could hear a phone ringing and Cyborg put a finger against his lips to ask for quiet.

The phone rang for a while before a sleepy voice answered.  
"What?" The voice squawked "Metal Man, do you know what time it is?"

"Yes Mr Cobblepot, I'm sorry to disturb you. I just have a few questions about the events of last night" Cyborg spoke professionally and calmly.

"What? Is your line secure?" The old bird began.

"Yes Mr Cobblepot, I assure you it's safe" Cyborg rolled his eyes.

"Fine. Has the Bat already arrested the miscreants? He got the information fast!" Penguin sounded impressed.

"It's just for my report sir" Cyborg said as he stared at Flash who was sniggering.  
  


Hal created a ring construct of a hand and wrapped it over the scarlet speedsters mouth "hush" he whispered annoyed.  
  


"Yes, well, we must dot the I's and cross the T's. I imagine Batman would want all the details corroborated" Penguin sounded smug.

"Yes sir. Can you please tell me what occurred when Batman arrived at your fine establishment?" Cyborg was surprisingly patient.

"Yes, I'm sure it will not be as interesting as hearing about Batman's take down of those Interlopers." Penguin took a breath and outlined the events that took place in his office.

"So Batman gave the signal, and I zapped him with my umbrella" the old duck explained.  
  


Some of the heroes drew breath in shock, and Superman grit his teeth.  
(Note: shock, get it!)  
  


"Then what Mr Cobblepot?" Cyborg continued.

"Well, as my office was being watched, the thugs came and took Batman to my cellar. Can you imagine? My cellar?" Griped Penguin.  
  


"Well, even as Batman had accounted for the need to be caught as it were, I knew you costumed lot could turn up at any moment, potentially wrecking my club in a fight.  
So I made my way down there where I was able to get the Bat-radio turned on.  
I presume you heard the conversation from that point" Oswald sounded smug at his own cleverness.

"Yes Mr Cobblepot, it was ingenius of you" Cyborg continued, directing Penguin back to the information he was looking for.  
"Did they do anything to Batman?"

"Well, as I'm sure the Bat has told you, one thug punched his stomach and the other sedated him before he was moved to their transport. I didn't go down and see them off, so there's nothing more I can add" Penguin groused.

"How much do you know about the shipment delivery?" Cyborg continued, hoping to save some of the mission by squeezing more data from Penguin.

"What?" Penguin squawked "The Bat didn't get the information?" Asked the canny bird. "Am I at risk? Can you incompetents get anything right? Where is Batman? I demand to speak with him."

"He's unavailable right now, but I'm sure he will be in touch Mr Cobblepot. In the meantime, please continue to play your role and be safe" Cyborg said concluding the call.  
Penguin was still squawking when Cyborg disconnected.

 

"Well" said Arthur "that makes it pretty clear that Batman sustained his injuries after they left the establishment, more so if they initially sedated him for transport. This Cobblepot was under the impression that the case was closed and wouldn't have lied if he thought Batman would hear of it"  
Arthur raised an eyebrow at Superman.

 

"He could still be lying" Superman said plaintively.  
He felt he knew where the conversation was headed now, his brain was finally catching up.

 

"He's not" was the gruff voice from nearby.  
Everyone turned to look at Batman who was trying to sit up now that he was past the worst of his relapse.

 

"Bruce" Superman rushed over and started to help Batman sit up.  
There was a terrible sinking feeling that persisted despite the happiness at seeing Bruce was ok again.

But Batman pushed Clark's hands away with a growl.  
Superman stepped back looking like a kicked puppy.  
"Bruce, I" he began, but he was interrupted.

 

"Code Names" gritted the Dark Knight, again.  
Bruce moved gingerly to the edge of the daybed and swung his legs over towards the ground. He wasn't confident of standing yet, but he didn't want to be fussed over by anyone, especially not Superman.  
  


"Cobblepot has information about the shipment, but he doesn't have all of it.  
We wouldn't have bothered with the subterfuge if he knew" Batman said to the group clustered around the table.

 

Dinah, who had moved away from Batman when the call had been made, came back over. "Your injuries" she stated.

 

"Yes Dinah, I'm aware I have them" Batman didn't want Canary looking too closely at him with her medical knowledge and experience.  
No one got injuries past Black Canary.

 

"Well, your broodiness seems to be undamaged" Dinah smirked.  
"But I'm taking a look anyway"  
  


"No, you're not Little Bird" said Oliver, coming up behind Dinah and placing his hands on her shoulders. "Give him a bit of space. We have some things to sort out first. If Bats wanted medical help, I'm sure he'd let us know."

 

Dinah snorted "Yeah right, says the other one guilty of always trying to cover injuries"

 

Batman smirked. He'd heard enough stories from Ollie over the years to know Canary wouldn't placated for long. He nodded thanks at the archer.  
  


"I still need an explanation as to why my instructions weren't followed.  
Superman, You Do Not Speak" the last words were spoken so coldly, that the group shuddered as one.

 

Oliver smirked.  
He knew that Bruce was pissed, but logic pushed the Bat for other points of view first. He could respect that because Oliver knew if it was his plan busted so gloriously, he would be shoving kryptonite down the Super's throat.  
Then maybe, just maybe, hearing what the others had to say.  
 

"Cyborg was very clear on your tactics" the archer spoke "He explained the situation fully. We were all made aware that your capture was one of your contingencies, and that you needed valuable information regarding a weapons shipment"

 

Batman nodded at Arrow.  
He was trying to keep a tight reign on his anger, for the moment.  
Plus, he had to face facts, he was exhausted. He wasn't sure he had the energy to deal with the Superman situation yet.  
  


"So if I'm hearing Oliver correctly, everyone understood clearly what the situation was, and what was expected" he gritted out.  
He stood and moved slowly to the table where the others seemed to have gathered.  
Diana sat next to Flash, and Dinah had followed her friend.  
Oliver stood behind Dinah.

The only member not at the table was Superman.  
  


The group was trying to avoid having Batman mad at them.  
They all knew he was delaying dealing with Superman.

 

Batman's hand on the undamaged shoulder side thumped onto the surface of the table, making Flash jump.  
"And did you all explain to the Big Blue Dummy that he wasn't needed to rescue me?

 

Clark gasped at Batman's words, and approached the table.  
"Batman, I was.." but he was cut off by Bruce placing his glove covered palm over his mouth.

 

"Wait" he said without looking at Clark.  
He could feel Kryptonian heat through the gauntlet.  
The thrumming in his gut felt as if it was purring like a kitten.  
He dropped his hand quickly and looked back at the group expectantly.  
"Well?" He asked.

 

"Yeah Bats, Supes broke the conference room table when Vic was explaining it. We tried to calm Big Blue but he wouldn't listen" Flash spoke hastily.

 

Batman whirled and poked Superman in the chest and said "That's not coming out of the maintenance budget either Kent, so you'd better start working some overtime."  
  


Automatically, he spoke before his brain could red flag the comment.  
"Code names B" Clark blushed so hard that the tips of his ears turned red.  
  


Batman's hand clenched into a fist, centimetres from Superman's nose.  
He growled, then turned back to the group with a sigh.  
  


"I suppose it couldn't be helped. It's not as if he can be stopped easily if he's made up his mind." Bruce sounded tired, even to himself.  
His shoulder twinged and he held the arm against himself, trying to breathe through his nose. His anger at Clark was simmering just below the surface, and it wouldn't take much for him to lose his temper completely.

"Shit" he muttered quietly, trying to keep the joint from moving was difficult, even as he used the other side of his body.  
The response from the Leaguers was expected.  
He was getting aggravated by more than just his shoulder. 

 

Clark could tell Bruce was in pain. He heard the quiet curse Bruce had let slip. He'd seen the dislocated joint with his X-ray vision when he 'assisted' Bruce from the van.

"Do you want me to reset the shoulder?" He asked helpfully.

 

Batman whirled back to face Clark.  
The hopeful look on that face seemed to open the floodgates of his frustration at everything that had happened.  
The operation was ruined, and all his fury was aimed at the well meaning hero.

 

"No Kal-El, I do not. In fact I don't want you to fucking touch me at all" Batman's voice began to get louder, which made the other Justice League members flinch.

"Back off Superman, I'm warning you" he growled.

 

"But I don't understand B. How did you get those injuries? Why is everyone mad at me?I rescued you, which you obviously needed.  
It's been implied that it was the driver of the van being irresponsible that caused the problems. So it was a good thing I stopped him and got you out of there before you were injured further" Clark's face showed his confusion as the words tumbled from him.

 

Batman glared at him dangerously. "Most of the damage was done when a big blue lughead didn't listen to instructions and chased the damned van, the drivers were trying to avoid you so were taking evasive manoeuvres. At least they were doing as they had been told, unlike the Oblivious Flying Fuckwit that I'm currently staring at.  
Ultimately, it was you that caused the worst of my injuries"

 

"The sudden stop!" Hal remembered saying to Superman earlier.  
"You were chained up in the back of that van, which was travelling at speed, and when Superman brought it an instantaneous halt, you had nothing to arrest the forward momentum. How hard did you hit Spooky?" The pilot was trying not to visibly flinch as he asked the question.

 

"The chains made it a impossible to hold on to anything." Bruce drawled.  
"I was trying to brace against the rear door of the van, so I'm sure you can extrapolate that I hit the front wall of the van separating the drivers at considerable speed.  
That's when I got the dislocated shoulder.  
The ribs happened two corners before that.  
I'm not sure when I received the concussion or other sprains, bruises or contusions" Batman spoke very deliberately, looking Superman in the eye as every word crossed his lips.  
  
He noticed that Clark paled the more Batman spoke.  
  


Batman also knew whatever drugs were in his system were making him talkative and act out of character. He growled at himself for listing injuries he would normally have dealt with himself, or rather, with Alfred's help.

 

Flash sped over to the Dark Knight "you're really hurt that much? We were initially under the impression that you hadn't received any damage of significance. What can we do to help Bats?" the red clad speedster was genuinely worried.

 

"I wasn't hurt until SuperTwit frightened the driver of the van.  
It was like being inside a pinball machine.  
It was the swerving that caused the damage." Batman admitted with a shake of his head.  
  


The whole group gave Superman a dirty look before they started offering to help the injured Dark Knight.

Everyone also wanted to know why Superman had acted out of character, but Batman came first.

 

Superman looked contrite at the news. He was devastated. He had caused Bruce's injuries?  
"B, I..I'm sorry" he began.

 

"Not Now Superman!" Batman said in his most menacing voice.

 

Wonder Woman got up from her chair and walked to the pair.  
She placed her hand on Batman's arm to move him back gently, before she let rip at Superman with a mean right hook.

"That's for not listening to me" Diana said shaking out her right hand.

She followed it with a left punch to Clark's gut.

"That's for flying away when I was merely trying to explain the situation to you.  
If you'd listened, this operation would not have failed and Br..Batman would not be wounded." Diana was angry as she said these last words about Bruce.

Then she landed an open handed slap to Kal's cheek.

"And that's for growling at me like a bear woken early from hibernation. I really want to hurt you for the injuries you've caused Batman, but it's not my place." She flexed her left hand and looked as if she might just do it anyway.  
  


Superman, Clark, Kal, whichever one he was at that moment sat his ass heavily onto the roof with a loud thump. Diana's strength was enough that even he felt her blows.

 

Hal began to snigger and Diana turned to glare at him.  
"Please, don't let me stop you. He deserves it and more for ruining Spooky's hard work and making us all chase after him like a petulant child" he said holding up his hands.

 

Flash looked between Hal, Diana and Clark with horror on his face.  
He'd even stopped eating.

 

Diana smirked at Hal and turned back to Clark.  
He had his palms facing outward in a show of contrition.  
  


"I'm truly sorry Diana.  
I would never purposefully disrespect you.  
I didn't know what was happening, I only knew Batman was in pain, and well, I couldn't let him suffer.  
I'm really sorry.  
Please, can you ever forgive me?" He pleaded.

 

Diana stared at him for a long minute before stating "I'll think about it, just be thankful I took it easy on you this time." before walking over to sit once more near Dinah and Oliver.

 

Dinah crossed her arms, before asking "That just leaves the Kryptonite. Where's it going to be Batman?"

 

Superman looked at Batman like a wounded puppy "Kryptonite?"


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "There wasn't time to start a betting pool, but we'd all like to know."  
> Batman always has kryptonite, right?
> 
> What a fine mess Superman is in.
> 
> What's a Bat to do?  
> At least his brain appears to be back online.
> 
> There's pain, painful realisations and a lot of rushing around.
> 
> Mitigating this disaster will be a nightmare for our Caped Crusader.  
> But he's got to start somewhere.  
> Working within his limitations means using the resources he's got.  
> That means unleashing the League in Gotham.  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final part of the long chapter.
> 
> Batman is Injured, so don't expect him to be up for anything strenuous.  
> I don't want to disappoint you, just don't be disappointed, please?
> 
> The next chapters are coming together s l o w l y.
> 
> But I'm working on them.
> 
> /BSCAO3 out
> 
> *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Chapter 12  
Lay your Bets, Where It Will Go, Nobody Knows - except The Bat

*~*~*~*~*

Batman looked at the gathering and tilted his head in question.  
It made him a little dizzy but he still didn't want any of the others to know he'd been drugged. Not yet at least.  
There was a lot of extra work to be done because of Superman's recklessness.

 

Aquaman was the one who spoke for everyone.  
"We are all wondering where you are going to shove Kryptonite because the Boy Scout ruined your operation.  
There wasn't time to start a betting pool, but we'd all like to know."

 

Superman paled when Batman turned one of his trademark smirks on him.

 

Wonder Woman and Dinah positively shone with anticipation.

Aquaman was grinning, and poor Flash just crossed his legs in an awkward manner.

 

Cyborg looked away, scanning the police frequencies to ensure there had been no other unexpected fall out, but he was still intently listening to what was being discussed.  
  


Victor felt he had a stake in the outcome, he'd worked just as long and hard as Batman on this case, his first working so closely with someone he respected and sought approval from.  
He'd been hoping to impress the Dark Knight because he held the vigilante in such high esteem.  
Batman had to work harder and smarter to keep up with the Metas, both hero and villain.  
  


Superman's actions had not only risked Batman, months of complex information compiling, tactical analysis, the potential for new weapons arriving in Gotham unchecked, police and civilian casualties along with implied traps for members of the League, a lack of public confidence in the capabilities of the Justice League to protect them, the list went on and on.  
This was a screw up of epic proportions.  
  


He could also admit he would be a little happy to see what Batman intended to do.  
Just quietly, his money was on the Kryptonite equivalent of brass knuckles.

 

Oliver spoke then "I think Lantern was for left nostril insertion, but I'm thinking right up his...oof" he didn't finish as Dinah's elbow found his ribs.

 

Batman took a menacing step towards Superman, who backed up hurriedly.

 

"Look, I'm sorry everyone, really I am" he rubbed at his forehead "and I'm especially sorry to you Batman.  
I don't know what came over me.  
I lost my focus and could only think you were in danger.  
And I'd never forgive myself if anything were to happen to you.  
You're my.........friend B, and that means a lot to me.  
Please?  
I'll help fix all this somehow." The Kryptonian pleaded.

 

Batman looked at the blue clad hero in silence, which made the Man of Steel even more nervous.

 

A black gauntleted hand reached for a compartment on his belt but the movement was cut short by his dislocated shoulder.  
  


"It seems you'll all have to wait until I get my injuries tended to" he grit out from between clenched teeth.

 

Superman had the worst hangdog expression on his face.

 

"Batman" Cyborg began "I can fix the shoulder now for you. As you know, the longer we wait..." the ex footballer was personally familiar with these types of injuries.

 

Batman nodded and grimaced at this display of weakness on his part.  
He was also beginning to wonder if part of the drugs he had been injected with contained truth serum.

 

Superman hung back as Cyborg gently probed where the pressure would be needed.

 

Aquaman held Batman immobile across his chest from behind.  
Diana offered her hand for Bruce to hold, glaring at Superman but smirking when the Dark Knight accepted her grip.  
Batman may be strong but he wouldn't break her bones.  
  


Dinah stood looking straight at Batman's white lenses. "Can you retract those so I can check your pupil dilation, especially with the concussion."

 

Batman sighed as quietly as he could and pressed the switch for the lenses to slide away, he blinked against the increasing daylight as the sun rose.

 

Dinah studied his eyes, looking for any disparity in pupil dilation, she noted the redness as well as the bags under his blue eyes.  
He looked like shit, and she was only seeing his eyes.  
She motioned for Victor to proceed.

 

"Ready?" Cyborg asked.  
His palms were pressed against the two sections of shoulder he needed to shift back into alignment.

 

Batman took a fortifying breath and tilted his head for Victor to proceed, not trusting his voice. He was trying not to tense his muscles in any way, leaving them lax to make Cyborg's job as quick as possible.  
The jackhammer in his skull beat mercilessly, and he focused on his roiling wrenching stomach.

 

"On three then" Victor said "One, Two" *Crunch*

 

The yell that Batman let loose was loud enough to startle pedestrians down at street level. His eyes fluttered as blackness ate away at the edges of his vision.

 

Superman nearly doubled over in pain at the sound Bruce made.  
The tugging in his stomach that had been thrumming was now pulled taut.  
He felt worse than when he had been hit by Diana.

 

"What happened to three?" Batman gasped when he could talk.  
The churning inside plagued him and he was relying on meditative breathing to bring his body back under his own control.

 

Cyborg looked guilty as he answered "by three, you would have tensed and it would have been even more difficult to return it into position, not to mention painful. I could see you trying to focus on it. Sorry Batman"

 

Batman just nodded.  
His raw throat unable to make further speech possible just yet.

 

Cyborg stepped back to inspect the shoulder was set correctly, but the materials of the Batsuit prevented him from checking for swelling.  
  


Aquaman released his hold carefully and Batman staggered, to be caught and held gently by Diana.

 

Clark felt his anger rise as Diana's arms circled the Bats waist and he leaned on her for support.

 

Flash zoomed over with several bottles of water and electrolyte energy drinks for the injured man.  
Flash removed the lid of one of the water bottles and handed it over.  
Batman gulped the entire thing down before thanking the speedster.

 

Dinah was still staring into his eyes, and this started to make Bruce more than a little uncomfortable.  
"Well?" He gruffed at her.

 

"The good news is you'll live" she said with a smile "The bad news is that you'll probably have a monster headache and your balance will be off, for at least a day"

 

"Great" Bruce groaned. None of this would have happened if it wasn't for the well intentioned Kryptonite for Brains standing nearby.

 

Arrow watched Batman carefully, he knew about hiding injuries and it was unlike the Batman to admit to any, at all, ever.  
  


He was also observing Superman who seemed to be growing agitated at the group clustered around their injured member.

 

Hal spoke up then "Well, if there's not going to any Kryptonite Batarangs flying, we should get you to medical. Want a lift on the Emerald Express?" He offered.

 

"Not yet Lantern, we still have unfinished business" Batman was trying to get his brain functioning properly as he said this.

 

"Thanks to our Big Blue Moron" he began, glaring at Clark "we need to see what information we can get from the other occupants of the van and check in with Gordon and his team" he sighed.  
How was he going to explain this shitfight to Jim?  
"There are procedures that need to be followed."  
  


He turned awkwardly to Cyborg "I know you said you checked out the factory, but maybe there's some information on their phones. Also, see if you can hack the van's GPS to see where it came from before it arrived at Penguin's place. We can run the plates against the GCPD database to see if they were stupid enough to use their own vehicle.  
Use any traffic cameras to backtrack to the IceBurg Lounge, check if there were any other vehicles following too."  
  


He placed his good arm on Victor's shoulder.  
"I'm afraid the majority of this work will have to be left in your hands until I'm back up to speed"

 

"No problems Batman" Victor blushed.  
It was quite a workload but the fact that Batman trusted him to do it was high praise to the teen.

 

Batman then turned to Flash.  
"I need the van secured until Cyborg has completed his checks. Also, try to get the goons talking. People seem to like chatting with you, so use that. Tell them what a bummer it is that an easy job turned out this way. Get chatty and listen for any clues"

 

"On it Bats" Flash gave him a jaunty salute and was gone in a blur, following Cyborg to the crashed van.

 

"Did Bats just use the word bummer?" Hal said to no one in particular. "And encourage Flash to get chatty?"

Batman threw a glare in the pilot's direction.

Everyone else just seemed to ignore him.

 

Batman is rubbing at his temple now, the throbbing is becoming distracting again.  
"Arrow, Canary, can I count on you to meet with Gordon and explain this mess? Months of work, all for nothing.  
The only thing we know for sure is that weapons and armour piercing ammunition will be arriving within the next week.  
Let them know to watch the shipping lanes, but we have nothing identifying the vessel"

 

Superman winced.

 

"Sure thing Bats" Arrow replies.  
  


"We'll try not to show the League as incompetent" Dinah adds with a final glare at the blue clad hero before the pair move off.

 

"What about me?" Asks Hal.  
Batman looked at the green glowing pilot and flipped his lenses down.  
Any light seemed to be exacerbating his headache, which was threatening to become a full blown migraine.

 

"Can you go to the IceBurg Lounge and keep tabs on Cobblepot? He might be in danger of repercussions if Intergang thinks he betrayed them.  
And go out of uniform Hal?  
You'd light the place up like a glow stick at a rave party" he adds.

 

"Why Spooky, that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me" Hal grins and lifts off from the rooftop. He can be heard muttering "Bats knows what a rave party is?" as he leaves the area.

 

"Arthur" Batman turns to the Atlantian "I hate to ask more of you with your duties as Sovereign, but can you patrol the docks? We don't know anything about the ship that's due unfortunately" 

 

Batman glares at Clark again who appears to be wilting at every instruction Batman is giving to mitigate his disaster.

 

Clark knew he fucked up, but he couldn't explain the relief coursing through him at just hearing Batman giving orders, back to normal at last.  
Forehead creased in thought, Superman also knows he can sense every one of Batman's injuries.  
What he didn't know was how or why. 

 

Aquaman briefly clasps Batman's uninjured shoulder "We will discover the ship. Crews talk amongst themselves, most often at the disreputable bars nearest the shipyards.  
You know they are some of my favourite places to hang out" he gives Bruce a bawdy wink and a grin before making his way towards the bay.

 

That leaves only the Trinity on the rooftop.  
Diana's arm has not left Bruce's waist and Clark is staying on the other side of the roof after Diana wholloped him. 

 

He knew he deserved it but the sight of her arm around Bruce has him becoming agitated again.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Batman admits to the drugs, to being angry, to being in pain.  
> What's a Bat to do with these, these, weird feelings and things?
> 
> Clark is feeling guilty, sad, shocked, then he's feeling more and more.  
> What is going on with our Man of Steel?
> 
> Our two heroes talk about Stuff™ 
> 
> Something is stolen from the Bat, and he's not complaining, yet!  
> Things never seem to turn out as expected anymore.  
> Expect the unexpected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting a bit faster because I'm still worried about losing my work, again.  
> It might not be as polished, and there may be more mistakes, but I hope it's better than nothing.
> 
> Next chapter will feature our favourite butler, Alfred. 
> 
> Stay tuned.
> 
> *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Chapter 13

Like a Drugged Bat on a Gotham Roof.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Batman looks at both of the people in front of him and sighs.  
This particular mess wasn't one he was prepared for right now.  
  


"Diana, can you let me sit for a moment?" He asks  
She leads him back to the daybed just as his legs collapse from under him.  
  
  
"Bruce?" She asks as she gently lowers him, avoiding any bumps to his shoulder and ribs. 

 

"I'm fine Diana, a little shaken and tired" he's taken back by his admission.

 

"What should I do B?" Superman asks quietly.

 

"Don't you think you've done enough already?  
What were you thinking?  
No, don't answer that, I'm too angry to listen to you right now" Batman growls out but without any real heat.

 

He really is tired, his dizziness is returning and his mouth is parched despite the water Flash had given him earlier.   
He opens one of the electrolyte solutions that had been left for him and grimaces at the too sweet flavour as he swallows half the bottles worth of fluid.  
  


"Fuck" he half mumbles.  
He supposes it's time to address the drugs in his system.  
  


"Both of you need to listen to me" he begins while trying to retrieve something from his belt.  
With a disgruntled sigh, he asks Diana for help getting a specialised cylinder from a compartment on the side of his damaged shoulder.  
  


Holding the tube in his hand, he notices he is shaking.  
The other two have noticed as well.  
  


"I wasn't sedated, I was drugged" he begins.  
He doesn't need to look at their faces to know the shocked expressions that will be there.  
"What time is it?" He asks

 

"It's a little after 6am B" Superman replies, knowing intuitively from the sun coming up behind them.

 

"I went to the IceBurg at a quarter to one.  
So we can speculate that I've been drugged for 5 hours or less.  
My fine motor skills are still suffering the effects although the physical and mental effects still come and go.  
  
I need one of you to take a blood sample to Leslie for immediate analysis"  
  
  
Bruce can feel his heart rate ramping up again, and now that the adrenaline is gone from his system, he is struggling to remain in control.  
  


His hand shakes more and he would have dropped the bloodwork kit he held if Diana hadn't taken it from him.  
Another drug induced episode feels like it's crawling over him.  
  


He doesn't want to think anymore.  
  


"I'm losing my ability to focus.  
Someone needs to take the sample, I can't do it myself."

 

"Shouldn't we just take you to see Leslie?" Diana asks.

 

"I don't think I should move much, my heart rate" he begins. Superman gasps.  
He had stopped actively listening when Diana smacked him around, and feeling guilty at being the cause of Bruce's injuries, but now that he focused again, he could hear the frantic pace it was beating at.  
  


"He's right Diana, his heart rate, BP and respiratory system are still suffering.  
Whatever he's been drugged with must have caused B's strange reaction when he woke up.  
It seems to be happening again" as Clark said this, he realised it was why Bruce had passed out in his arms.  
  


Did that also mean that Bruce's reactions to being safe and in Clark's arms were also drug induced?  
He started to doubt everything.  
That strange feeling in his stomach was returning and the incessant drumming behind his eyes seemed to be coming back too. Clark had absolutely no idea what was happening.

 

The two lie him down. Superman bundles his cape under Bruce's head.  
Diana efficiently removes a gauntlet and opens the slim cylinder she is holding.  
She holds the delicate syringe and collection ampule carefully and looks for a place to draw the blood from.  
  


"Bruce?" She asks again.

 

He manages to groan for Clark to tear the suit at his elbow.  
Collecting blood from his hands won't work with the way he is shaking uncontrollably now.

 

Clark grips his bicep and forearm while Diana locates a vein and draws the blood.  
It's Clark's grip on his arm that helped refocused his thoughts and allowed him to calm his breathing and frantic heartbeat somewhat.

 

"Diana" he whispers hoarsely "go to Alfred after you've dropped the sample at Leslie's.   
I'll need a change of clothes before I can go anywhere, and Alfred can bring the car.   
Let him know what's happening but try not to worry him too much, he has enough grey hair as it is"

 

Diana smiles as she secures the sample back into the cylindrical case "Maybe I should tell him you said that"

 

Bruce tries to laugh but it turns into a dry cough from his raw throat.  
Clark helps Bruce drink more of the sickly sweet beverage before Bruce pushes it away.  
  


Whatever they put in those drinks, besides sugar, also seemed to be helping to stabilise some of the recurring symptoms that he's avoided dealing with over the past week.  
  


Naturally, he doesn't think too hard about the difference of the symptoms in his current state, as result of his concussion and of whatever the Intergang goons shot him up with.   
He's lucky to be coherent at all.

 

"Go Diana, I won't let anything happen to him, you have my word" Superman says still looking distressed himself.

 

"After recent events, I believe you Kal" and Diana gives him a hard look before flying off into Gotham.

 

As Bruce lays there, he feels Clark sit next to him and take his ungloved hand.  
The warmth of the Kryptonian's skin seems to soothe even more of his symptoms.  
The tension creeping into his muscles starts to fade.  
  


"I'm still angry at you Kal" Bruce says gruffly while his hand grips tighter.

 

"Yes, but your heart rate is normalising, so maybe being mad at me is good for your health" Clark listens to Bruce's body with intensity.  
  


This is their first skin to skin contact since Bruce visited him at his apartment in Metropolis.  
Although Clark blushes at the memory, he can't deny that his own returning pain seemed to be evening out in much the same way Bruce's is.  
  


The pounding in his head had slowed once more, and the gut wrenching reduced to a dull ache. "How are you feeling B?" He asks.

 

"Surprisingly better" comes the normal baritone.  
It always amazes Superman to hear Bruce's voice come from the Bat.

 

"Can you check for people Kal? I'd like to remove the cowl if we're safe from prying eyes" Bruce asks.

 

"I doubt anyone, who didn't already know we're here, would notice if they flew directly overhead" he smiles.  
"This spot is sheltered by a low wall, a garden, air conditioning units, utility elevator and service access as well as satellite dishes.  
As spots go, it's a pretty good one.  
I can also close the curtains around the platform you're on too"

 

Pulling on the hand in his grip, Batman sits up carefully to lean back against the cushions Diana had placed earlier.  
His rib still hurts and his shoulder is giving him hell.

 

"I guess you got something right today at least" he mumbles as he removes the cowl.  
His hair is a mess and there's a nasty bruise forming on an elegant cheekbone.

 

Clark has closed the filmy curtains, and sits back down next to Bruce when he finds he's reaching out to touch the bruise gently. An arched eyebrow makes him hesitate.

 

"What happened Kal?" Bruce asks quietly.

 

Clark finds his hand that was reaching for Bruce's face is suddenly grabbed and held tightly by the pale ungloved hand.  
He stares at their entwined fingers, mesmerised for a moment.

 

"What's going on?  
Talk to me Kal, I'm already feeling a lot better than I was a moment ago.  
Your proximity actually seems to be helping." Bruce almost whispers.  
  


It was true, he'd noticed the reduction in the severity of his headache at the meeting earlier, and now many current symptoms were disappearing altogether.  
  
It didn't mitigate the fact he was drugged with an unknown substance, had a concussion, a recently relocated shoulder... well his injury list was always quite extensive but nothing he hadn't dealt with before.  
He'd had worse, he thought.  
  


But the painful headaches and nausea were definitely subsiding.

 

"I...I'm not sure myself B" Clark stammers.

 

Bruce sighs and closes his eyes, resting his head against the pillows he's now propped up against.  
He has Clark's hand gripped tightly, so he's a little surprised when he feels Clark's other hand gently pushing his bangs away from his forehead.

 

"Bruce, I..." Clark begins.

 

Bruce opens his eyes to see Clark so close to him that he's drowning in those cerulean eyes.

 

"Clark, we.." his voice is cut off by the gentle brushing of lips against his own.  
There's barely any pressure at all, and if Bruce wasn't seeing it with his own eyes, he'd think he was hallucinating.  
  


Bruce's whole body seems to know it's not his imagination as it shudders in relief.  
It feels so right, so perfect, his muscles relax into jelly and his heart pounds to a different rhythm.  
  


The warm lips are chaste against his own and he sighs against them, tilting his head minutely for a better angle.  
His eyes are locked with Clark's, saying something that there aren't words for.  
Bruce doesn't understand it but he's not trying to either.

 

Clark's tongue runs along his lower lip, not demandingly or forcefully, more playful and questioning.  
It sends sparks behind his eyes, and his lips tingle where they're in contact with that wet warmth.  
  


Once again, Bruce closes his eyes and parts his lips by the merest fraction.  
It wasn't a conscious decision, his body is just responding.  
  


He feels Clark sigh and tease between his lips with that clever tongue.  
Sweeping along upper and lower lips, the tip just brushing inside his mouth with tentative strokes.  
The heat is intoxicating and Bruce revels in the feelings that are sweeping over him.  
  


The kiss stays gentle and playful until Bruce's gauntleted hand slowly wraps around the Kryptonian's neck, and he can't stop the moan that bubbles up from deep inside him.  
  
  


Clark takes that as his cue and presses in with his tongue.  
Bruce's mouth opens to welcome him, and Clark is exploring, sliding and twisting in ways that aren't human, that are exhilarating, mind blowing.  
Feeling the pressure on his tongue, the inside of his lips, the roof of his mouth, Bruce feels adrift from himself, from reality.  
  


Bruce welcomes the scorching heat and presses his own tongue forward, thrusting into the warmth that feels like home.  
Their tongues slide together, twirling around each other, tasting each other.  
  


Clark's hand slides to the side of Bruce's face and Bruce opens himself more.  
They fit together perfectly.  
No awkward bumping of teeth, just sensation as the heat fills him entirely.  
  


Bruce begins to nip and bite at Clark's lips.  
Their sweet kiss has turned desperately passionate.  
They're making out like teenagers, moaning into each other's mouth.  
  


Bruce sucks on Clark's tongue and playfully bites on the invulnerable skin.  
Clark's body shivers so hard that Bruce can feel it through his uniform.  
It makes his whole body light up, every nerve firing towards more and more pleasure.  
  


Bruce increases his grip on Clark's neck, pulling them as close as possible despite the awkwardness of where they are.  
  
Clark is also being careful of Bruce's injuries.

 

They break apart, panting like they'd been running a marathon.  
Clark wants desperately to lie the Dark Knight down, tear the uniform from his body and taste him all over.

 

Bruce doesn't know what he wants anymore.  
His headache has gone, the sickness mostly dissipated and he feels fan-fucking-tastic.  
  


If it weren't for his injuries, he'd be up for a flight via Air Superman back to the manor.  
That's how good he feels.

 

They lean back in to each other simultaneously, hands moving on limited exposed skin, and kissing as if their lives depend on it.

 

Clark is doing that thing with his tongue that has Bruce seeing stars.  
Then Clark's mouth is moving down his jaw, licking that spot behind his ear, and Bruce is hard & uncomfortable inside his cup.  
  


Clark has no such restrictions so Bruce slides his hand down from Clark's neck, reaching towards the cock he can see straining against the bold colours.  
Just as Bruce is about to make contact, his shoulder gives a stab of pain and he's momentarily gasping in agony.

 

Clark stops quickly and leans back to give Bruce room.

 

All the wonderful endorphins from their kisses evaporate, and Bruce cradles his arm against himself.  
  
"Shit" he mutters.

 

Clark stares at the most gorgeous sight he's seen since Metropolis.  
Bruce's lips are red, there's a hickey poking out from behind his ear, his hair is a mess, he looks thoroughly debauched and Clark just wants him so badly right now.

 

Bruce groans and rests his head against the cushions again.  
"I'm still mad at you" he states.

 

"I would be too" comes an unexpected voice.  
  
Clark startles, which nudges Bruce, which makes his shoulder jostle.  
  
"Watch it" Bruce hisses.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That's one exhausted Bat, who doesn't know why he reacted that way to Superman.  
> Must be the drugs, yes, that's it!
> 
> Oliver is a Bro.  
> Dinah is bossy  
> Diana pines.  
> Alfred shows up.
> 
> Dang timing!!!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter that had to be split in half
> 
> I have no idea why my chapters seem to be getting longer.
> 
> I also had problems formatting the spacing.  
> I blame my iPad being cranky.
> 
> Apologies if it's hard to read.
> 
> And many thankyous for the kudos and comments.  
> They inspire me to write more.   
> I appreciate it so much.
> 
> Thankyou Miss M for everything.
> 
> Next chapter soon!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Chapter 14

Alfred's Mission: Enforced Bed Rest for One Stubborn Vigilante.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

"Little Bird is coming up the elevator, I thought I'd travel the famous Bat Skyscraper Highway" Oliver smirks.  
"So what's the haps kiddies?" He asks, pulling back the curtains as Dinah appears via the roof exit.

 

"Batman wasn't just sedated, he was drugged.  
We're waiting on blood analysis, a change of clothes and a car to get him home." Superman sheepishly informs the pair.

 

Dinah snaps "Drugged and a concussion?  
On top of fractured ribs and a dislocated shoulder?  
Is there anything else you neglected to tell us?  
Is that why you look like shit?  
Why didn't you say something earlier Batman?  
Arrow and I didn't both need to go see Gordon.  
Where's Diana?"

 

"Right here Dinah" Diana says coming through the same rooftop door that Dinah used moments ago. Diana is carrying a large duffle, and is not alone.

 

"Alfred" Bruce tries to sit up, he doesn't want to worry his trusted father figure, but he's pushed back down by Dinah.

 

"Code names Master B, and you too Miss P" Alfred admonishes. 

Bruce looks chastised while the other heroes giggle quietly.

 

"What else Master B? Before I am forced to give you a thorough physical here on this roof, what else didn't you tell us?" Dinah growls, looking hard into Bruce's eyes, as if she could read his secrets through them.

 

Bruce sighs and runs his hand through his hair.  
"Nothing major Dinah, you know the worst of it.  
You're beginning to sound like Alfred" 

Bruce flicks his gaze at the Englishman standing nearby.

 

"I'll take that as a compliment then" Dinah adds with a wink at Alfred.

 

"As you should, it is high praise indeed coming from a recalcitrant Bat" Alfred snarks.

 

The older man isn't fooled by Bruce's diversionary tactics.  
He can see his young charge is exhausted and in more pain than he's letting on.  
It was a good thing he had been with Miss Prince when the blood results came in. From what the Wonder Woman had told him of Master Bruce's ordeal, he had the good sense to take advantage of Leslie's pharmacy; with her permission of course.

 

Getting away with it would depend entirely on just how worn out the Bat truly was at the moment.

 

Stepping forward and clearing his throat for attention, he put his own plan into action.  
Mission: Enforced Rest for one stubborn Bat.

 

"Ladies and gentlemen, with your assistance" Alfred says and motions to the duffle Diana is carrying.  
"We need to remove the evidence, and get the injured one back to the manor, er home base, for some well needed rest and recuperation "

 

Dinah nods, still glaring at Bruce's cowless face.  
"What did the blood analysis show?" She asks, finally turning towards Diana.

 

"If I may, Miss Canary" Alfred begins as he rummages in the bag.  
He withdraws a zippered medkit marked with the logo from Leslie's clinic.

 

Bruce watches with narrowed eyes as Alfred holds up 2 syringes from the kit.

 

"The concoction that Master B was dosed with is particularly nasty and has a two stage antidote, to be given an hour apart.  
Although half an hour between doses was deemed acceptable, an hour will be best to play it safe.  
I need someone to administer the first, and keep an eye on the time for when the second application is required" Alfred looks at the gathered heroes expectantly.

 

"I'll do it" says Dinah. 

 

Bruce has a feeling that Nurse Canary will not be allowing him to get away with his usual tricks of escaping rest, especially when there's work to be done.

 

As Bruce looks to Oliver, the green archer shrugs in sympathy.  
He's intimately familiar with Dinah's bedside manner and knows full well that the Bat was hoping to avoid enforced time away from the Mission.

 

Bruce looks back to Alfred "What did they dose me with?" He asks.

 

"I'm happy to explain at length once we have you in a more secure location.  
A conglomeration of colourful costumed heroes won't go unnoticed on a Gotham rooftop for long" Alfred knows he right and looks smug as he informs his young ward.

 

Bruce knows there's no point to arguing now.

 

Dinah takes the syringes and medkit from Alfred.  
The syringes are only marked with a 1 and a 2.  
She raises her eyebrow at Alfred but doesn't question.

 

"Intramuscular or vein?" She asks the Englishman.

 

Alfred indicates that vein is preferred, but either will do.

 

Dinah nods.  
"Let's get rid of the BatSuit and then I can determine the best delivery point"

 

Bruce groans.  
There would be no hiding of further injuries if they were all going to work together.

 

Diana in the meantime has been removing clothes from the duffle.  
"There are enough clothes here for all of us, so we are able to stay and help Alfred. Isn't that lucky Br.. er Batman?" She asks, smirking at his grimace.

 

Clark hadn't moved from next to Bruce, where only moments ago, they'd been kissing.  
He wanted more.  
He was sat in a way that had his back to the group that had ruined their makeout session, but Bruce could see clearly that Clark still had a problem.  
A hard, aching, needy problem.

 

Clark caught Bruce glance at his problem, then back up to his eyes.

 

"And what are we to do with you Kal?" Bruce asked with a raised eyebrow.

 

The small group stopped what they were doing and looked at the pair still seated on the rooftop.  
There was a strained silence, broken only by the sounds of morning traffic on the street below.

 

Bruce sighs, unclamping his cape, he shrugs it from behind his back with a small wince. His shoulder was still painful.  
He tossed the cape over Clark's lap, effectively saving the Man of Steel from further embarrassment.

 

"We need to discuss your actions, but A is right.  
This is neither the time nor place." He mutters while starting to undo his boots one handed.  
It's awkward because his bruised ribs and torso didn't want to let him lean forward and undoing the boots was normally a two handed job.

 

"Allow me?" Asks Clark, safely hidden behind Bruce's cape, he's seated at the perfect position to get to the boots.  
Bruce just nods and leans back against the pillows with a weary sigh.

 

Alfred gathers bundles of clothes and hands them to the other vigilantes.  
Simple sweat pants and hoodies were all he'd grabbed for everyone.

 

Diana simply slips hers on over her uniform.  
Taking off her tiara and pulling her long hair back into a ponytail.  
The red boots are covered by the loose blue sweatpants.  
She bundles her lasso with her tiara back into the duffle.  
Zipping up the hoodie completed her disguise and she stood ready to assist Alfred.

 

Watching Clark divest Bruce of his boots made her a little uncomfortable but she knew it had to be done.

 

Dinah had done much the same as Diana, slipping grey sweats onto her legs, and leaving the jacket unzipped, she was ready to go.

 

Oliver looked at the light grey set he held "Nothing in green Al?" He asked cheekily.

 

Although Oliver knew there was a difficult day ahead, especially for Bruce, he felt sympathy for Superman.  
He knew he'd caught the end of something between the two, but the girls were going to make things difficult with their presence.

 

He also recognised that Bruce was hiding further injury, and knew that Dinah would find out as soon as the BatSuit was removed.  
Dinah was the love of his life, but her no nonsense attitude to injury was well known to him.  
He already pitied Bruce.

 

Clark felt like he was being tortured.  
Here he was, helping to undress Bruce but unable to touch.  
He tried not to let his hands linger on every bit of Bruce's skin as it was exposed.

 

As Clark took the boots off, Bruce had removed his second gauntlet and Diana took it from him.  
She matched it with the other one taken off earlier and put them in the duffle. Something within her enjoyed the sight of the gauntlets sitting in the bag with her tiara and lasso.  
A warmth blossomed in her chest.

 

She'd had feelings for the Dark Knight for some time now, but something about Kal's behaviour had her instincts flaring.

 

Dinah bumped her shoulder, and raised an eyebrow in silent query, as she placed Oliver's folded bow and quiver inside the duffle.  
Diana just shook her head and the pair turned in time to catch Oliver in the compromising position of dropping his pants.  
"Wha...?" Oliver asked and the two women just giggled together.

 

Clark used the distraction to quickly grab Bruce's hand and squeeze reassuringly before dropping it again. Bruce sighed and closed his eyes.

 

He had to admit that he did feel better with the Kryptonian so close.  
There was barely any headache or stomach pain.  
Bruce wondered if the concoction of drugs he'd been given by the intergang goon had made him react to Clark's kisses that way.  
He could feel the lingering warmth on his lips, and had to admit, he wanted more.

 

Alfred stood nearby, watching everything with sharp eyes while he held the last pair of sweatpants and hoodie for his young ward.  
His wise eyes knew something had happened between the two, and it was more than the irrational behaviour of Mr Kent spoiling a long term sting operation, as explained by Miss Prince.  
He shook his head, he knew Mr Kent would be paying a penalty when the Bat's temper caught up with events.

 

"Your turn Master B" Alfred said as he indicated the clothes he held.  
"And please prepare the first dose of the antidote Miss Canary"

 

Bruce flinched.  
There was no more hiding, they were all going to see the cut on his chest from Penguin's umbrella tip, and the scorch marks of his electrocution.  
Penguin had told them he 'zapped' Batman but they didn't know the extent of it. There would be bruising from his ribs and the others from being tossed about inside the van.  
He pondered if he could get away with putting the clothes over his uniform, but he knew it was too bulky and would only draw suspicion.  
He moved on the platform to sit on the edge, his bare feet resting on the cold surface of the ground.

 

Oliver saw Bruce flinch.  
Walking forward as he zipped up his hoodie, he came up next to the seated pair.

"This will be uncomfortable with that shoulder. You'd best let Superman and I help." He stated reasonably "unless you'd prefer to have the girls undress you" he added cheekily.

 

He knelt down on the ground and said softly "we'll try to keep you covered well enough so that Dinah doesn't see too much, but she'll find out eventually" he looked at Bruce's pained expression "she always does" he sighed.

 

Bruce just nodded.

 

Oliver reached forward to the clasp of the infamous Utility Belt.  
"Wait" Bruce called quickly, trying to hold Oliver's hand away.  
"It's booby trapped" he added sheepishly.

 

Oliver waited while Bruce did some complicated thing around the clasp, and the belt disengaged with a small hiss.  
When he leaned forward again, to slide the belt off, he whispered quietly "where's the worst we need to hide from the girls?"

 

Bruce lifted his hips to slide the belt out easier and replied in a quiet breath "chest stab wound & electrocution"

 

Oliver's eyes widened when he heard this and he looked at Clark, who also looked like he didn't take the additional news well.

 

"Right then" Oliver added in a louder, cheerful sounding voice. "Who wants to take the explosive belt?"

 

Alfred stepped forward and pressed the bundle of clothes he'd been holding into Superman's hands.  
"I think it best if I do, I can disarm or use most of the contents, if needed" he added with a smirk.  
Bruce smiled up at his father figure "Indeed" he said with pride.

 

The two women watched, fascinated, as Alfred pressed a few pouches in sequence and some low beeps were heard.  
"Ah yes" Alfred said by way of explanation "if the proper sequence isn't entered, upon correct removal or not, it will detonate"

 

Alfred chuckled as all eyes widened significantly, watching him roll the belt and place it in a zippered pouch on the outside of the duffle.

 

"Is there anything you don't do Al?" Dinah asked with obvious awe in her voice.

 

"Windows Miss Canary, they're just not my forte. Both the GUI and glass varieties." Alfred smirked.  
Diana and Dinah both laughed.

 

While the girls were distracted, Oliver looked at Bruce and Clark "Ready? While they aren't looking" he whispered.

 

Bruce nodded and began indicating clasps in sequence for Oliver and Clark to disengage his upper armour.  
By the time Clark had it placed in a pile, quietly, to the side, Alfred had provided both women with water bottles and energy bars, with his apologies and promise of a proper breakfast when they got to the manor.

 

"He's distracting them" Bruce said quietly.

 

"Then let's get on with it. This will be uncomfortable Bruce" Oliver replied in a hushed tone.  
Bruce just nodded again.

 

Clark braced Bruce's head on his shoulder as Oliver started working the lower hem of the undersuit up Bruce's torso.  
While Oliver was concentrating, Clark gave Bruce a quick kiss on his temple.  
"We got you B" he said

 

Oliver, who caught the movement from the corner of his eye, said nothing.  
He was trying to use his body as a shield so the two D's wouldn't see what was happening. 

 

Clark realised he'd been seen and blushed. 

 

Oliver just winked at him.

 

Clark shifted Bruce in his arms, supporting the injuries as best he could, while Oliver directed Bruce's uninjured arm out of the first sleeve.  
He bunched the shirt and lifted it over Bruce's head, leaving the sleeve of the dislocated shoulder until last.

 

His eyes landed on Bruce's damaged chest. "Shit" he muttered.  
Clark looked at Oliver who motioned to Bruce's chest with his chin.

 

"Shit" Clark echoed.

 

Clark twisted to free up the arm with the damaged shoulder for Oliver and ended up with Bruce in a sort of hug.  
Oliver slid the sleeve off as quickly as he could, but Bruce still hissed with the pain.  
Clark felt the exhale of Bruce's breath against his cheek.  
He felt like crying.  
This was his fault.  
He gently wrapped his arms around the injured man and tried to steady his breathing.

 

"Come on Boy Scout" Oliver grumbled "we've got to get the hoodie on before.." he didn't finish.

 

"Before what?" Said Dinah's voice from right behind him

 

"Before he catches cold on top of everything else" Oliver answered, thinking quickly.  
"Keep him like that Kal" he added.  
Bruce's chest was hidden against Superman's symbol on the front of his uniform.  
Bruce lay limply in the arms radiating a comfortable heat against his aching bruises.

 

Oliver started to feed the injured arm into the first sleeve of the hoodie.  
The fact it was zippered, and not a shirt or jumper, made it easy to slip it across Bruce's shoulders, but before he could lift Bruce's other arm into the rest of the hoodie, Dinah spoke again.

 

"What are you hiding?" She crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently.

 

"What's going on?" Diana asked as she joined Dinah.  
The sight of Bruce in Clark's arms took her by surprise but she covered it well.

 

Alfred moved the duffle bag to the pile of armour "if you ladies could assist, we can hopefully be on our way soon"  
Diana moved to where Alfred held the bag open and started placing the pieces of armour inside.

 

Dinah wasn't so easily distracted.  
She held the syringe in her hand "I may as well give him this before you slip the rest of the hoodie on him"

 

Still holding Bruce to his chest, Clark twisted his entire body to give Dinah access to the arm.  
"We're trying to keep the shoulder immobilised" but he wouldn't look at Dinah as he said this.

 

Dinah narrowed her eyes at the trio before her, before preparing the injection.  
Opening the medkit from Leslie's clinic, she slipped on a pair of gloves.  
Retrieving the syringe once more, she removed the cap and tapped gently to ensure any bubbles would move to the tip.  
She squeezed the plunger gently until a few drops of liquid slid from the needle.

 

Oliver held Bruce's outretched arm against his knees, and gripped firmly above the elbow. When Dinah saw a vein rise against the pale skin, she swabbed at the site with a sterile pad and then efficiently pushed the metal tip into the skin.  
Drawing the plunger back until she saw blood enter and mix with the fluid, she then gently pressed the plunger until the contents were emptied.

 

Bruce felt the warm heaviness in his limbs immediately.  
His brain went on a little holiday as, with a sigh, he crumpled into the warmth surrounding him.

 

Oliver's hand at his elbow, having released the pressure to raise a vein, held the arm in place until the syringe could be removed.  
He definitely felt the Bat melt and wondered what was in the concoction Bruce was just given.

 

Alfred, who had come up behind Dinah, passed her a cotton ball directly from the sterile packaging.  
Dinah pressed the cotton ball against the entry of the needle, and withdrew the now empty syringe quickly.  
She passed it to Alfred, who held a small bandaid for her to apply over the cotton ball. Then she got out her phone and set the timer for one hour.

 

"Thankyou Miss Canary" Alfred said quietly.  
While Dinah and Alfred disposed of the gloves, medical packaging and used syringe into a small sharps bag, Oliver and Clark worked quickly to dress Bruce in the hoodie and get it zipped up.  
The two looked at each other in relief before realising they still had the sweatpants to go before they could leave the roof.  
It felt like they had been there much longer than the 10 minutes or so it had taken to get Bruce's top half changed.

 

Alfred had packed away almost everything, and young Master Bruce was finally dosed with the first pharmaceuticals Leslie had prepared for him.  
It surprised him that Master Bruce had allowed himself to be manhandled, but it appeared that Mister Kent was doing something to help with the distress the young man had been suffering recently.

 

If Mister Kent was able to continue to assist today, then Mission: Enforced Bed Rest for one stubborn Bat, had every chance of success.

 

He had successfully distracted both the ladies for Mister Kent and Mister Queen to have the Batman mostly out of his armour.  
He hoped they could all be on their way soon.

 

Clark still had Bruce hugged to his chest.  
After getting the top half changed, Bruce had snuggled back in. Bruce.Snuggled.Clark.  
Clark's brain was short circuiting, and he was sure he had a dopey grin plastered on his face, but he had to admit it felt good.

 

He didn't know what Alfred and Leslie had dosed him with, but by the smug expression on the butler's face, there was more in the shot Bruce had just been given than an antidote.  
Within moments of the injection, Bruce had pressed his face into the unnatural Kryptonian warmth and sighed.  
Clark felt Bruce's whole body start to relax.  
He had no idea what the others would think but he was too happy to care.

 

Bruce was all warm and floaty.  
The aches and pains of his injuries were receding and whatever had been wreaking havoc with his system of late seemed to have settled as soon as he came in contact with Clark.  
Of course his brain was too fuzzy to think any of those things clearly, he just knew he felt good.  
He was drifting off in a haze.

*~*~*~*~*


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Batman gets worked up, worked over, and worn out.
> 
> Superman has the moves.
> 
> Oliver ships this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second part of original chapter 14.
> 
> It's still long but I couldn't bear to break it again.
> 
> Enjoy Teh Sexy!
> 
>  
> 
> HTML code is my Official™ Nemesis, although I still fight around 

*~*~*~*~*

Chapter 15

Summary:

 

Batman gets worked up, worked over, and worn out.

Superman has the moves.

Oliver ships this.

Notes:

The second part of original chapter 14.

It's still long but I couldn't bear to break it again.

Enjoy Teh Sexy!

 

*~*~*~*~*

Diana watched as Bruce snuggled into Kal.  
She turned to Alfred and whispered "what was in that shot?"  
Alfred winked at her before saying "I can explain in more detail over breakfast, but let's just say Master B will be on cloud 9 for a good while"  
Diana nodded and bit her bottom lip.  
Of course she was happy to see Bruce was no longer suffering from the events of the previous night, but did he have to be all snuggly with Kal?  
What would she have to do for Bruce to be all snuggly with her.

 

Dinah bumped her gently to get her attention.  
When she looked at the blonde, she saw she had her phone in her hand.  
Dinah gave her a wink before stepping forward a few paces to take some pictures.  
She got a particularly good one of Bruce's face.  
His bangs were falling across his closed eyes, and there was a dreamy smile on his face.  
The angle hid the bruise darkening his cheekbone.

 

She stepped back to Diana and showed her the picture.  
"Blackmail material Di" she sniggered.  
Diana gave a weak smile in return so Dinah wrapped a comforting arm across her friends shoulder.  
"It's just the medication.  
You know the Bat is going to be Super-pissed at Kal when he's got his faculties back to normal.  
This doesn't mean anything, you have nothing to worry about" she gave her friend a little shake "do you want copies of the photos I just took?"

 

"Just that last one please?" Diana replied with a small grin "he looks so peaceful and relaxed"

 

"Yes, it's a rare one, that's for sure" Dinah said as she forwarded the picture.

 

Giving her friend one last squeeze, she clapped her hands together.  
"Come on boys. Let's get Mr Happy Bat home. I'm starving and Al's promised breakfast"

 

Oliver and Clark nodded in agreement.  
"I never turn down Al's food" Oliver announced gleefully.

 

Together they removed the lower half of the Bat uniform and got the big jelly into the black sweatpants.  
Alfred and the girls got the last of the uniform stowed in the now full duffle bag, and everyone checked to make sure there was no evidence of their presence left behind on the roof.  
Thankfully the only items that remained were the civilian clothes for Clark.

 

"Thankyou for no more code names, everyone is out of uniform and disguised, well except Kal, but we'll remedy that shortly." Oliver says quietly.

 

Alfred saw Clark pick up Bruce, bridal style, and approached the pair.

 

"Master Kal, if you have no pressing business today, I'd like to request you spend the day at Master B's home base please?"

 

He turned to include everyone in the small group "I would very much appreciate the help of all of you"

Leaning forward to brush the bangs back from Bruce's closed eyes, he smiled fondly at the boy he considered his son.

"He's quite the handful at the best of times.  
Despite the image he projects to you all, he has been suffering from a strange malady of late.  
He would never admit to it, of course, but I fear he is coming down with something.  
He has also been working himself too hard, especially on this weapons case.  
He would never ask for help, but I believe he needs it.  
His disappointment with me for asking this of you all will be worth it if he can rest and recover.  
I have been worried about him, and while he is currently sedated, I would like to ask of you all, as a personal favour to me, to look past his gruff exterior and see a man who is overtaxing himself, potentially ill and stubbornly lonely"

 

"Alfred" Bruce mumbles.  
"Hush now boy, we'll be home soon" Alfred replies with obvious fondness.

 

When he looks up into Clark Kents blue eyes, he can see them shining with moisture and sadness.  
"Of course Alfred" he says quietly "anything at all, anytime you need it.  
We'd all do anything for you and Bruce"  
Alfred smiles at the blue clad hero with gratitude.

 

He turns to the trio standing close at hand.  
Both Diana and Dinah hug him, sniffling away their own tears.

 

"You don't need to ask Alfred" Diana says "it is my honour to assist a wonderful man like yourself.  
We know how much you love Bruce, it's obvious.  
We all love Bruce too"

 

"Speak for yourself Princess" Oliver says, wiping at some dust that seems to have lodged in his eyes "not all of us love Bruce that much.  
I have Dinah to think about, she'd kill me for cheating on her" he jokes, lightening the somber mood.

 

"But yes Alfred, of course we'll help.  
You don't need to ask.  
We know he can be difficult, and yes, that's the understatement of the century, but we'll help whether he likes it or not.  
I'm willing to bet not will be standard response for the most part.  
However, I'm just as stubborn as he is, so he'll just have to get used to it" Oliver stated in all seriousness.

 

Dinah steps away from Alfred and Diana for a moment to kiss Oliver on the cheek.  
"Joke if you want Mr Queen, but I know all about your soft gooey caring side.  
It's one of the many reasons I love you.  
And I promise I won't tell Bruce just how much you care as long as you promise to never try to hide injuries from me ever again.  
Yours, his or anyones.  
Deal?"  
She holds out her hand to shake on it.

 

Oliver grabs it, shakes a few times before bringing her hand to his lips for a gentle kiss.  
His other hand wraps around her waist, he pulls their joined hands away from his face to dip her backwards and lay a romantic kiss on her lips.

 

After a moment, Alfred coughs politely so Oliver stands Dinah back up straight and grins at his audience.

 

Dinah walks back to Diana and Alfred, and gives the elderly butler a gentle kiss on the cheek. "We're here for you Alfred, you and Bruce."

 

Alfred blushes a little "I do hope you're not planning on dipping me, I don't think my back, or my poor heart, could take it.

 

The laughter is genuine relief for all of them.

 

Oliver walks over to Clark and moves to take the dozing man from his arms.  
Clark grips Bruce tighter until Oliver says "Relax big guy, you have to change too, remember?"

 

Clark smiles and releases his hold on Bruce.  
Bruce grumbles half heartedly but Clark gently cups his cheek for a moment.  
Only Oliver can see because his body blocks the line of sight of the others.  
"I'll only be a moment" he whispers tenderly.  
Bruce still manages to stand, leaning heavily on Oliver.

 

Using super speed, he goes to the remaining clothes folded neatly on the top of the outdoor table.  
He lays his cape on a chair, pulls off his boots and simply puts the sweatpants and hoodie over his uniform.  
He's put his boots back on, pulling the sweatpants over them, and is bundling his cape when Alfred steps in pulls it from his hands.

 

"Why is it that between you and Master Bruce, that neither of you can seem to fold a cape?" He grumbles with a good dose of humour.

 

Alfred folds the red cloth with reverence and places it in the last exterior pocket of the bag with the black one that has already been stashed there.

 

Clark speeds back over to Oliver and Bruce.  
It's lucky the girls and Alfred are moving towards the rooftop access door, and Diana has the large bag hoisted over her shoulder, because Bruce reaches his arms out to wrap them around Clark's neck.

 

The door bangs closed, its only Oliver and some pigeons that see Bruce lever himself into super strong arms and place his lips on Clark's with a long sigh.  
It's a chaste kiss, just pressing onto Clark with a smile that lights up Bruce's whole face.

 

Clark glances up to Oliver who winks and steps away to the door.

 

Clark looks back into half lidded arctic blue eyes and Bruce leans into Clark, pressing their bodies together, before Bruce is taking that warm lush mouth with his own.  
Bruce moans and one hand moves to grab a handful of hair.

 

Clark wants to be worried about Bruce's injuries but with Bruce's hand in his hair, and that mouth on his, it feels so perfect, so right.  
Kissing Bruce is like nothing else.  
All the comparisons that are written, fireworks, heavenly, toe curling, full body flushes, perfection, are inadequate pale comparisons to the reality Clark is feeling.

 

His own heartbeat sounds loud in his ears until he realises that Bruce's heart is beating in perfect cadence to his, they are synchronised and dancing together to their own tune.  
Clark wants to crawl inside Bruce's body.  
That perfect hot body that draws him in.  
It's worse than an addiction.  
He feels like he can't live without Bruce.  
The rest of the world fades from his consciousness.

 

Bruce's mouth hasn't stopped on his.  
Bruce's body has moulded to him, every centimetre that can touch is pressing into him. There's sparks behind his eyes, his mind is awash in Bruce's presence.

 

Bruce is moaning sweet sounds of their unique song, their bodies singing together.  
Words tumble between breaths and lips and tongue and teeth.  
Need. Want. More. Mine.  
Clark has started breathing with him, feeling every inhale and exhale drawing them into one another.

 

Bruce has become the world to him, the universe.  
The star which he revolves around.  
Bruce is light, is life.

 

Clark's hands are under Bruce's hoodie, drifting over skin, sliding over planes of muscles.

 

Clark's arms wrap Bruce's torso, he lifts Bruce into the air while his feet are firmly planted.  
Clark licks and nibbles his neck.  
Bruce is arching his whole body.  
One leg is wrapped around the back of Clark's thighs, the hand is still in his hair dragging his fingernails against his scalp in a way that would be painful on anyone else.

 

Clark buries his face into Bruce's chest.  
Licking and sucking over his heart, feeling them beat together.  
He sucks a big bruise over the frantic beating.  
He licks and nibbles at his nipples, they're perked and hard at his touch.

 

"Clark" Bruce rasps  
"Kal" and the sound of his Kryptonian name from those perfect lips makes him burn, incandescent from within, it's pure and hot and needy and beautiful.

 

"Bruce" Clark is nearly in tears now.  
He feels like there is energy pulsing between them.  
A tautness in his gut is like elastic, pulling him closer to Bruce, thrumming and purring in a deep rumbling way, it's like it's pulling him towards his destiny.

 

He wants to express his feelings but he doesn't know how.  
Clark looks up at Bruce's face, the expression is of rapture, of ecstasy.

 

"I love you B" Clark smiles.

 

His eyes widen as Bruce's lips descend on his.  
He's kissing Bruce with all the passion of earlier but his mind is reeling at the words he just spoke.  
Bruce doesn't seem to have noticed, his eyes are closed and his tongue moves languidly in Clark's mouth.

 

Clark's teeth nibble at Bruce's lips, and he feels the Dark Knight's groan start in his torso before being exhaled straight Clark's mouth.  
Clark sucks greedily at the noise, then sucks on Bruce's tongue.  
Bruce becomes wilder, wrapping himself tighter around Clark and squeezing.

 

Clark is still holding Bruce off the ground, their bodies entwined, touching each other as much as possible, when Clark hears the door bang and a clearing of a throat from a respectful distance.

 

"Time to go" smirks Oliver at the sight before him.  
The big tough Bat has himself completely entangled in a surprised Superman.

 

Clark starts to pull Bruce off himself with gentle hands, not willing to use his strength to hurt Bruce.  
It's obvious Bruce fights this, gripping him as tightly as he can.

 

"Kal, no" Bruce whimpers.

 

"Come on Bruce, time to go home" Clark says a little desperately.  
He can see the smirk on Oliver's face but he still motions to Bruce a little helplessly.  
"A hand?" He whispers to the archer.

 

"I don't know" Oliver says stroking his beard "if Bats is getting all possessive, I don't want to risk having him pissed at me, now or later"

 

Clark just stares at Oliver until Bruce has slid around to attach their mouths again.  
As much as Clark doesn't want to stop, he doesn't want Dinah, or especially Diana, to follow Oliver out of the door from the service elevator.

 

Clark narrows his eyes at Oliver who then takes a couple of steps towards them, when Bruce whispers loudly enough for the blonde archer to hear "Kal, my Kal, kiss me"

 

Oliver holds his finger up and mouths the words 'one more' before turning his back to give them privacy.

 

Clark delves into that sweet mouth, whilst slowly sliding their bodies together towards the ground.  
Delicious friction has Bruce gasping "yes!" before taking Clark's mouth again and again.  
Bruce thrusts his hips forward and Clark can feel that Bruce is hard inside his sweat pants.  
Clark's breathing increases as he presses himself against Bruce's length.

 

"He's not going to stop unless I do something to encourage him to relax more towards sleep" he calls to the broad back nearby.

 

Oliver sighs. "You'd better be quick before one of the girls comes to investigate"

 

"Two minutes" Clark's says smirking against Bruce's lips, his hand is on the waistband of Bruce's sweatpants and Bruce is wriggling to get them off his hips.

 

They drop lower as Clark reaches around and slides his hands down onto Bruce's ass.  
Bruce moans and grinds himself against invulnerable hardness, practically riding Clark's leg.

 

Clark hears Oliver say "impressive" before the archer is moving towards the door again.

 

Clark grabs that delicious ass and lifts Bruce's body against himself once more before he uses his super speed to get them both back on the daybed, and again lays Bruce on his back.  
Bruce is thrusting against him and Clark wrenches the pants until they're halfway down Bruce's thighs.  
Bruce hasn't stopped kissing him, and breathes "yes" into his mouth.

 

"Let me?" Clark asks as one fist wraps around Bruce's straining cock.

 

"Yes yes yes" Bruce moans.

 

Clark begins moving down, sucking on Bruce's neck as Bruce begins moving his hips so that his hard, leaking dick is moving in and out of Clark's big warm fist.

 

Clark moves his lips to the collarbone peeking above the zipper of Bruce's hoodie.  
Teeth graze the skin before lapping at the flesh with his tongue. His lips latch on to the skin, leaving another purpling bruise.  
Bruce's hands grip either side of Clark's head as he arches himself, wanting all the contact he can get.

 

Clark turns his head until he's licking the palm of one of Bruce's hands, and then sucks a finger into his mouth.

 

"Oh please?" Bruce begs.  
Clark dips his head lower until he is at Bruce's hips.  
Turning his head again, the finger is released from his mouth with a pop and Bruce whines.

 

Letting go of Bruce's hardness fucking his hand, Clark blows a soft, heated breath over the surface of the exposed cock and Bruce shudders.

 

Clark licks a stripe from root to tip before taking just the head between his lips.  
Bruce thrusts with urgency, and Clark swallows him whole in one go.  
The shaky moan from Bruce makes Clark close his eyes and grips his own erection to keep from coming.

 

Clark curls his tongue around Bruce's shaft and squeezes rhythmically.  
Bruce's head whips from side to side, then Clark vibrates his tongue as his hand strokes Bruce's balls.

 

From that point, it's literally seconds before Bruce is coming with a hoarse cry.  
Clark backs off enough to suck the come from Bruce's cock, using a little super suction.  
Bruce shakes uncontrollably and moans long and loud, before passing out.  
Clark licks every drop from Bruce before lifting the sweats back up, then lifting Bruce into his arms and moving towards the door.

 

Ollie is standing there, at the door, facing away from where they were, and when Clark approaches, he grins.  
"Impressive, but not unwarranted by the sounds of it"

 

Clark blushes.

 

Oliver holds the door open and they all head down to the car where Alfred and the girls are waiting.

 

"What took you so long?" Dinah demands.

 

"We didn't want to wake Sleeping Beauty Bat here, so we waited until the last minute" Oliver explains. "I don't know what was in that shot Al, but he's being very un-Bat-like"

 

Clark nearly snorts out loud as he snaps the seatbelt around Bruce, who is now between himself and Oliver.  
The large SUV has Dinah and Diana seated next to each other across the front with Alfred.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred's Ongoing Mission: To Seek Out New Ways to Make One Stubborn Bat Rest!
> 
> Bruce arrives back sat the Manor.  
> He's not a happy Bat.
> 
> The others just want him to rest.
> 
> There's angst, some awkward conversation, breakfast and a Grumpy Bat.
> 
> Where will it end?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got long, but I couldn't find a natural break point for it.  
> And this is my first time trying to use the Rich Text editor.  
> It kept putting extra spaces in when I hit enter and and and......  
> *sigh* I hope it's not too choppy to read.
> 
> I'm still learning.
> 
> Apologies.
> 
> There is a further chapter or two ahead for Manor Shenanigans.
> 
> As always, please enjoy!
> 
>  
> 
> And apologies for replying late to comments. I really appreciate each and every one of them.
> 
> *~*~*~*~*

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Chapter 16

To the Manor, and don't spare the Bat.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Bruce's head lolls on Clark's shoulder as the vehicle moves into the traffic.  
Clark is feeling tingly and happy.

 

When Oliver reaches out to shift Bruce's head, Clark raises an eyebrow at him.  
  
Oliver looks pointedly towards the front of the vehicle, and Clark can see that Diana and Dinah are watching them in their peripheral vision while talking softly to each other.

  

Clark frowns but nods his assent.  
  
He wanted Bruce as close as possible but he knew that the two women were already more than suspicious. He can still feel Bruce’s thigh against his own, the body next to him seems to be resonating with his own.    
The thrumming inside is purring away like a diesel engine.

 

Oliver shifts Bruce's head onto his own shoulder, then reaches down to grab one of Bruce's hands and gently moves it into Clark's own.

 

Clark looks down, momentarily startled, before realising what Ollie was doing.  
  
He looks gratefully at the archer, who gives him a tiny wink, before Clark is wrapping Bruce's hand in his own firm grip.  
Clark feels Bruce tighten his fingers, before they go lax.

 

Diana notices Bruce's head is resting on Oliver's shoulder, and she feels relieved.  
The mild trepidation she experienced at seeing Bruce and Kal so close together lifts.  
  
 

There's a sigh of relief that passes her lips as she watches Gotham wake up and go about its day through the window.

 

The rest of the journey passes uneventfully.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

By the time they arrive at the Manor, Bruce seems to be trying to fight the effect of the sedation.

"Typical" Alfred snorts.  
He drives the vehicle all the way up the driveway to park as close to the front door as he can get.  
  
 

"How long has it been Miss Lance" Alfred queries.

 

Dinah checks her phone "just at halfway now" she says while Diana gets out.

 

Diana opens the door on Oliver's side, she's still unhappy with what Kal has done, and why he's there.  
  
She smiles at Bruce's head on Oliver's shoulder, although she can see his hand is twitching where it rests in his lap on the side closest to Kal.  
  
 

"Want a hand Oliver?" She asks hopefully.

 

"It's fine Diana" Oliver replies, watching Bruce twitch.  
There are little moans escaping the Bat every so often.  
  
He'd noticed it start when Clark released his grip on Bruce’s hand, as they arrived at the Manor.

 

Dinah also gets out and follows Alfred to the back of the vehicle where the duffle bag is stowed securely with some other bags.

 

"I took the liberty of getting some supplies while Leslie was waiting on the results" the butler states, pulling a bag of food out and handing it to Dinah.

 

"Hey Diana, come take the heavy bag will ya?" Dinah calls to her friend.

 

Diana, who had wanted to carry Bruce, sighed quietly and moved to take the duffle.

 

Oliver slid out of the back seat, then moved around to open the door for Clark.  
  
It was strange to see Clark not in his reporters garb or blue uniform.   
Without the glasses, and wearing a hoodie that fit, it made him look like a different person altogether.

  

Clark reached over to disengage the seatbelt and felt Bruce shift.  
Injured, exhausted & now medicated, he knew Bruce needed rest.  
  
Everyone knew the Batman rarely rested though.  
  
 

Lifting the dead weight is no problem for Superman, as he manoeuvres them both out of the car, he swoops the Dark Knight into his arms and carries him across the threshold into the manor, bridal style.

 

Diana frowns but tries to push the rising feelings inside her away.  
Seeing his head in the crook of Clark’s neck bothered her.  
  
She had really wanted to be the one to carry Bruce.

 

As Alfred directs Clark into a sunlit parlour, he feels Bruce brush his lips against the skin of his neck.   
He instinctively speeds up to settle Bruce before Alfred catches the movement. 

 

The clever Englishman has already seen more than enough to put the pieces together.   
He was present on the morning after Superman's initial amorous visit, and seen the results of Master Bruce's trip to Metropolis first hand.  
  


Catching small interactions between the two, whilst on the rooftop in Gotham, wasn't difficult when one knew what they were looking for after all.  
  
  

Alfred didn't send Mister Kent to place his ward upstairs yet.  
  
They still had to dress the wounds and time for the second injection was rapidly approaching.

 

The first only contained a little of the strong, fast acting, short term pain relief because there was an antidote to the chemicals found by Leslie in the blood.  
  
The second had a lower dose of the needed antidote, but longer acting sedation.  
  


Alfred knew the boy needed rest but would resist because his operation had been foiled.  
  


Alfred then directed Diana to leave the duffle in the study where everyone could retrieve their uniform and tools. 

 

Dinah, who had handed Oliver a second bag of groceries from the back of the SUV, followed Alfred into the kitchen.

 

The Star City pair lingered, offering to help unload the bags.  
Alfred usually didn’t allow others into His Kitchen, but the pair were trying to be of assistance, as he had asked.   
The provision of breakfast would require a team effort in order to let everyone eat before Master Bruce woke.  
  


That was something Alfred was not particularly looking forward to, but it had to be done.    
  
 

‘Stubborn Bat’ Alfred thought to himself sourly.  
He cared for the boy and worried after him constantly.  
  
Well, he’d be a poor excuse for a guardian if he allowed Master Bruce to always get his way, working himself to the bone, and never getting enough rest.  
  


No, the Bat wouldn’t win this battle!  
  
Alfred was determined, and there was rarely anything that could stand against a determined butler.

 

Clark, in the parlour, sat on the edge of the large settee he had placed Bruce on.  
The tired vigilante was resting, and he took Bruce's hand again in his own.  
Immediately the twitching settled and Bruce sighed.  
As much as Kal wanted to press his lips to this person who was so precious to him, he just sat and stared.  
  
  

'I love you B' Clark's words came back to haunt him.

Had Bruce heard, comprehended, in his current state?  
The Man of Steel was a little shaken himself at the realisation that he had meant those three words.  
His heart gave a little stutter.  
  


With everything that had happened, he doubted Bruce would feel the same.  
Cringing when he looked down at the sleeping man, counting the injuries again, he felt guilty.  
Clark was responsible for those.  
Plus the fact he had ruined Bruce's plan to obtain important information ate away at his insides.  
  
 

Looking at their joined hands, he wondered if he should just leave.  
It was then that Diana appeared in the doorway.  
Clark released the hand before Diana could notice.  
 

 

As she stepped into the room, Clark spoke "I've made such a mess Diana"

Diana looked at the guilty expression on Kal's face.  
Her own emotions seemed to be mixed.  
  
Anger, for what happened to Bruce.  
Sympathy, to a certain extent, for Kal's obvious upset.  
  
 

There was something else in the jumble inside her.  
It flared whenever she saw Bruce and Kal in close proximity, more so since the events of last night.  
  
  

"Kal" she asked "are you sure you're ok?" She asked hesitantly.  
As strange as it seemed, it looked like Superman was about to burst into tears.

  

"Diana, I don't know anything anymore" Clark said glumly.  
"I've hurt Bruce, risked weapons being delivered into Gotham and caused Bruce trouble by ruining his plan. And I still don't know why" his hands covered his face briefly and he heaved a deep breath. 

The lump forming in his throat was choking, and tears threatened to spill.  
"I don't know what I'm going to do to try and fix this" 

 

Diana walked up to the man, who was ultimately her friend, and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.  
"You can only try Kal. And I'm sorry about before.." she began.

 

"No, Diana, you were right.  
And I deserved it.   
When I see what I've done to him" Clark looked at Bruce as he spoke. He sighed heavily.

"Perhaps I should go"

 

"Mister Kent, I am relying on your assistance" Alfred spoke as he entered the room.

In the hall behind, Dinah and Oliver, who were ferrying breakfast items to the dining room, paused.

 

"You can't leave Blue" Oliver said hurriedly.

Dinah lifted an eyebrow at him.

"He agreed to help Al. And we'll need his X-ray eyes to make sure Bruce doesn't try to cover his injuries" the blonde said helpfully.  
He was looking imploringly at the Kryptonian as he said this.

 

Kal nodded but was miserable inside.  
Despite the kiss, and the other moment on the rooftop, he still felt the responsibility weighing heavily upon him.

 

“Breakfast will be served shortly.    
After all of you have eaten, we shall attend to Master Bruce” Alfred advised.

 

The heroes nodded in agreement and Alfred returned to the kitchen where he was preparing a spread to break the morning fast.

 

Diana hesitated to leave Bruce.  
She was genuinely worried about the man.  
Seeing his injuries and knowing that Kal had been the cause of most of them had made her lose her temper, but now she felt sympathy for both of them.  
The different points of view of this unique situation was confusing.  
She pondered Kal’s actions.  
  
He had initially been protective of Bruce, and didn’t stop to think when he believed Bruce to be in danger.  
Diana could relate to those feelings, but then Kal had ignored Bruce’s orders to stay back, and didn’t listen when she had tried to explain.  
The expression on his face when she met up with him outside Gotham was not one she had seen before.  
  


She moved to the edge of the settee, near Bruce’s legs, and sat facing them both.  
  
“Kal” she began “do you want to talk about what happened?”

 

Clark’s face paled.  
What could he say to Diana.  
His own emotions were so mixed up.  
“I don’t know where to begin Diana” he replied softly.

 

“How about why you didn’t seem to be listening to what anyone was saying.  
You seemed to lose your ability to reason, to be rational.   
I’ve never seen you like that before.  
Even Bruce told you to not interfere.    
We both know he’s going to be angry when he wakes properly.   
What did you talk about while I was delivering the blood sample and informing Alfred?” there were so many questions in Diana’s mind, they came out in a flood.

 

Clark looked up.  
Diana was trying to understand, but he couldn’t tell her what had happened on the rooftop.    
Clark knew she had a romantic interest in Bruce.    
There was a brief flare in his gut as he thought this but he tamped it down.  
  


“I honestly don’t know the answers” he answered.  
“Bruce is furious with me.  
Even he asked why, but I didn’t have an answer for him either.    
He’s human Di.    
The only one of us that doesn’t have Meta protection.    
I know he doesn’t need it, he’s the best of the best.   
He always has a plan, contingencies.    
The most brilliant mind I’ve met.   
I don’t understand myself why I felt I needed to rescue him.   
Something inside me told me he was in pain and I reacted without thinking.”  
  
 

Clark rubbed the back of his neck.  
Embarrassed at his own actions, he looked back at the resting form of Bruce.  
  
 

“I look at him with my X-ray vision, and I see what I did.    
I feel guilty for everything” he whispered.

 

Diana rubbed Clark’s arm reassuringly.  
“We all feel protective of Bruce.   
He doesn’t allow for any kind of special treatment, except obedience when he barks orders” she smiled.  
  
“Come, let us eat.    
Perhaps together we can think of a way to mitigate some of the Bat’s ill mood when he wakes.   
Dinah and Oliver are more experienced with these sorts of Missions and might be able to help brainstorm some of the current circumstances.  
And with Alfred on our side?   
Well, let’s just say, if there is a way out of this mess, we will only find it by working together”  
 

 

Clark winced slightly at the word mess, but nodded in agreement.  
As he stood, Diana gave him a quick hug.  
He was grateful to the Amazonian for her patient and understanding nature.    
There was no one quite like Diana.

 

The pair made their way to the kitchen where Alfred was a whirlwind of activity.   
He had put Dinah and Oliver to work making toast, gathering pastries and plating dishes as they came from the oven.

Hash browns and croissants steamed, eggs and bacon sizzled on the stovetop, and a pot of oatmeal bubbled away.

 

Within minutes, everything was prepared and they all made their way to the dining room.    
Alfred saw the heroes seated before whisking a bowl of oatmeal to his injured charge in the parlour.

 

It was quiet around the table as the group ate.

Clark’s appetite was small, as expected.  

The rest ate heartily.

  

Dinah spoke up after a few minutes.  
“Oliver, you have to see the photos I took of McSleepyBat.    
I doubt I will be getting double shift of monitor duty any time soon” she winked.  
  


Bringing the pictures up on the device, she handed it across to Oliver who was sitting opposite her.

His eyebrows raised, he began to laugh.  
"You’re a devious little bird”.  
  
Clark looked over and saw the pictures on Dinah’s phone.  
A brief smile crossed his lips, which Oliver noted.  
“You should have a copy Clark” he said “You’re in all but one of the pictures”

 

Clark blushed.  
A picture of Bruce in his arms would be something to cherish.  
"I would love a copy, please Dinah?” he asked.

 

Dinah took her phone back.  
"Why not, Diana already has a copy too.  Which ones do you want?” she asked playfully.   
Dinah was seriously contemplating sharing them with the whole League.

  

Clark looked awkward for a moment, before he asked hesitantly “All of them?  I can’t choose one right now, I still feel bad for what I did” 

 

Oliver, who was seated next to Clark, slapped the invulnerable arm.  
"Don’t you start worrying Clark.  
We’ll be able to recover from the hiccup the mission took”  
  
Clark just looked worse.  
Oliver felt bad for the big guy.  
Knowing what he had seen on the rooftop, he sympathised with Clark’s predicament.

 

Clark’s phone beeped as the pictures arrived from Dinah.

“Don’t you show anyone now, you hear?” she stated cheekily.  
“This is my wild card to play against Bruce if I need it.”

Clark nodded and she smirked at Diana who was still focussed on her food.

A small frown crossed Dinah’s face when she saw the Princess wasn’t really participating in the conversation.  
  
She nudged the Amazonian, who then gave her a small smile.

“It’s fine Dinah.  
I’m just worried about Bruce” she said softly.

  

“Tall, Dark and Broody will be fine” Dinah confidently stated.  
“And we’re all here to ensure he gets some rest in order to recover.”

  

As soon as the words crossed Dinah’s lips, there was a sudden roar heard down the hallway.

Oliver raised an eyebrow.  
“Sounds like the Bat has risen” he remarked.

  

Dinah checked the timer she had set on her phone.  

With only minutes left on the countdown, she cancelled the alarm and left the table to retrieve the medkit where it had been taken from the duffle and placed nearby.  
"Time for his next dose anyway” she observed.

 

Another roar was heard.  

Clark and Diana pushed away from the table at the same time and moved to the doorway.  

Oliver shovelled the last of his breakfast into his mouth before wiping away the crumbs with a napkin.

“We’ll have to help Al clean up” he motioned to the table as he set his cutlery on his plate.  “We know how you encourage tidying up after ourselves” he smirked at Clark, reminding him of that embarrassing moment a the last League meeting.

 

Clark blushed but his hearing was focussed on Bruce who seemed to be upset with Alfred.   
He could hear they were arguing.

 

The group approached the parlour.  
  
“How could you Alfred?” Bruce was shouting.   
"You know better”

Alfred stood stoically enduring the BatWrath™.

  

When Bruce paused to take a breath, his arm wrapped across his ribs, Alfred spoke.  
“Master Bruce, you were given an antidote to a nasty concoction.   
There was no other way to mitigate some of the side effects unless a muscle relaxant was included.  

According to Leslie, the muscle strain could have resulted in permanent injury to ligaments, muscles torn due to cramping and spasms.” he explained reasonably.

 

Neither Bruce or Alfred were fooled into believing the words, but neither spoke.    
Bruce glared at Alfred.  
  


When Bruce finally noticed the quartet lingering nearby, he turned his glare to them.  
  


“What are you doing here?” he gritted.

 

“Couldn’t turn down one of Alfred’s breakfasts” Oliver smirked, leaning against the doorframe. 

 

“Come on Grumpy” Dinah coaxed, approaching with the medkit in her hand.

 

“Oh no, not on your life” and it was The Bat that answered.  
Everybody recognised the tone of voice, the command that expected to be obeyed.

 

“Master Bruce, the second stage of the antidote is required to prevent ongoing side effects.   
We can all see you hiding tremors.   
Now is not the time to be questioning treatment.” Alfred explained.

 

“No Fucking Way” Bruce growled.

It was true that he had some tremors shooting through him, but they seemed to be intermittent.   
He had faith that his body would flush the last of the toxins.   
What he didn’t have faith in, were the contents of that syringe.    
His memory was fuzzy after the injection on the rooftop, but he knew something had happened beyond a change of clothes and returning home.  
  
 

Mostly, he felt betrayed by Alfred.  
The man he trusted with everything.  
Alfred was well aware of how he felt about sedation and narcotic pain relief.  
  


Bruce looked at the people gathering before him.  
As his eyes landed on Clark, he could see the Kryptonian blush.  
His stomach gave a lurch as he remembered their kiss.  
'It was the drugs’ he told himself.  
  
 

Pain throbbed behind his eyes and his injuries ached.  
The tension inside his stomach seemed to pulse.  
  
 

But he was still thinking of his operation gone awry.  
How was he going to obtain the information?  
The shipment needed to be stopped.  
Why had Clark kissed him?  
  


He rubbed his forehead.  
Why did his brain keep reminding him of Clark and their encounters.  
There was something more there but whenever he tried to focus on the memory, it would just slide out of reach.  
Every bone in his body seemed to pull and ache.  
The headache he seemed to be living with of late was returning again, albeit slowly.  
  


He couldn’t allow himself to be distracted, or sedated for that matter.  
There was work to be done, and all of them knew it.

 

“Stop being a sulky Bat” Dinah had put her hand on his arm as he spoke.

 

Bruce jerked his arm away, making his shoulder and ribs flare.  
He didn’t let any of it show on his face.  
"Dinah, I said no” he spoke flatly, looking at Dinah to let her see the seriousness of his resolution.

 

“We can do it the easy way, or the hard way” Dinah reasoned.  
“With both Diana and Clark here, how do you think you will stop us from doing what needs to be done?    
You can be as stubborn as you like, but we’re only doing what’s best for you.”

 

Bruce glared at her, and narrowed his eyes at the rest of the small crowd.

 

Oliver stepped around Clark and into the room.  
“Come on Bruce, we don’t want to fight you on this.    
It’s for your own good.” Oliver looked the stubborn Bat in the eye.

 

“I have work to do.” Bruce gritted out “I don’t have time for this.    
After the actions of SuperDense here” and he gestured at Clark with his hand but refused to look at him,  
“I have to revise my strategy and investigate other ways to get the data on the shipment.  

I can do that from the computer in the Cave without causing more strain on the injuries I sustained thanks to the Big Blue Clod”

 

Clark didn’t visibly wince at the words, but his heart gave a little lurch inside his chest.   
Now that Bruce wasn’t under the influence, his demeanour had definitely changed.  
Despite this, he was worried at the increase in Bruce’s heart rate that he was hearing.

 

It was Diana that stepped forward now. “Bruce, be reasonable” she said softly “You have sent the others to gather as much information as is available.  
Trust in your comrades”

 

Bruce whirled on her, ignoring the pain his body was beginning to shout at him.  
“I want you all out” he began “Out of my home, Now”  
  


He pushed past the ladies and Oliver until he found his way blocked by a broad chest.   
Glaring at the blue eyes that were locked on his, he suddenly found his mouth dry.  

A remembered moment of reaching his arms around the neck in front him had Bruce startled.

 

“Bruce, please?” Clark’s voice was barely a whisper.

 

This time Bruce couldn’t contain the spike that coursed down his spine.  
His cock twitched, and his eyes widened.  
Remembering a little more, he felt himself blush.  
Angry at his own body’s response, he gritted “I said Get Out”  
  


Bruce took a step to move around Clark, but a warm hand landed at his elbow.

 

“Bruce” was all Clark said.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What are a bunch of heroes to do with a GrumpyBat?
> 
> Superman digs himself a deeper hole that he wishes he could just crawl into.  
> He crawls in at the end, of the hole he’s digging himself to China!!
> 
> Alfred worries.
> 
> Diana finally gets to hold Bruce.
> 
> Dinah continues to sass.
> 
> Oliver cares about everyone, the big softie.
> 
> Bat resistance is futile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh heck, we all wanted a bit more of this.
> 
> JL cares about it’s resident Bat.
> 
> Can you feel the love?
> 
>  
> 
> I've used the word settee in this chapter, the context is:  
> A large seating area big enough to lay a prone Bat on.  
> I was going to use lounge, but this is the Manor!!
> 
> Apologies once more for formatting issues.  
> *Bangs head on desk, repeatedly*
> 
>  
> 
> And it’s been one month since I started publicly posting this story.  
> Time has flown past for me.
> 
>  
> 
> I want to thank everyone for all the support, kudos and comments.
> 
> Being a new writer, they bring me validation and hope, encourage me to write more/faster/longer etc.  
> And most of all, make me grin from ear to ear.  
> Every single one of you have brought joy to my heart and light up my day.
> 
> I am so grateful.
> 
>  
> 
> *** Watch for a “Special” Chapter as Thanks ***
> 
>  
> 
> Stay tuned
> 
>  
> 
> *~*~*~*~*

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
Chapter 17

Keep digging Clark!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Bruce tried to wrench his elbow from that warm vice like grip.  
The thrumming in his gut returned with a vengeance.  
However, the Super was not relinquishing his hold.  
It made him tingle in strange ways that threatened his concentration on the current circumstances.

 

“You wouldn’t?” Bruce almost sounded astonished.

 

Clark just sighed, before he spun Bruce into his arms.  
“Do it Dinah” he said morosely “I’m already in enough shit, a little more won’t make a difference”.

 

“Oh, it will make a difference alright” the underlying threat plain for all to hear.  
Bruce struggled, he growled, he kicked, he cursed, but all to no avail.

 

Dinah stepped towards him.  
She was already wearing the gloves, and the syringe was primed in her hand.  
“Intra muscular it is then” she said primly.

 

“Dinah” Oliver started, but Dinah just gave him a look that stopped him in his tracks. “I don’t agree with what you’re doing here” he snapped, looking away.

 

“Stop her Oliver” Bruce was practically pleading now.

 

Oliver shook his head. “I’m sorry Bruce” was all he could say.

 

Bruce glared at Dinah as she stepped close.  
“Why do you always make it harder than it needs to be?” she questioned.

 

“Why do you think you know what’s best for me?” Bruce sneered back.  
“I’m a big boy now Dinah, I can take care of myself”

 

In the background, Alfred scoffed.  
“If that were true Master Bruce, I would be out of a job.” he stated smugly.

 

Bruce was glaring at Alfred as Dinah unzipped his hoodie. 

With his back pressed against the Kryptonian’s chest, and arms holding him in an unbreakable grip, he gave them all the most menacing glare he could.  
Inside, he was seething.  
Inside, he was purring.  
Bruce experienced another moment of confusion.

 

“So this is what Oliver and Clark were hiding” Dinah said looking at Bruce’s chest injuries.

 

Both Oliver and Clark winced at the same time.  
They had momentarily forgotten the stabbing and electrocution marks.

 

Dinah pushed the hoodie down past the undamaged shoulder until the muscle of Bruce’s upper arm was exposed.  
“I won’t forget this Dinah” he growled as she plunged the needle in and emptied it’s contents.

 

It was a little slower to act than last time, not going in a vein, but Bruce felt that familiar warmth spread over his limbs.  
His head grew heavy and his legs started to give out, but the arms that held him didn’t let him fall.  
Instead, he was scooped up and held gently against that broad chest.  
Bruce weakly punched a fist into it a few times, before giving up with a sigh.

 

“Where shall we treat the injuries Alfred?” Clark asked, wondering if he should simply place Bruce back on the settee.

 

Diana watched the proceedings with a frown.  
She didn’t agree to Bruce being drugged, again, against his will, again.  
It was bad enough that Intergang had done so the first time.  
This second time made her a little disappointed in her fellow Leaguers.  
However, she couldn’t judge too harshly.  
She hadn’t acted or spoken at all, either for or against.

 

She watched Bruce be lifted by Kal, and that feeling of uneasiness grew inside her once more.

 

Alfred indicated the settee was fine.He sent Oliver to fetch a more comprehensive medical kit that was stored in the closet of a nearby guest room.  
Dinah disposed of her gloves and the syringe responsibly into the same sharps bag as earlier, before sighing heavily.

 

“He’s going to be a handful when he wakes again Al” she looked towards the elderly butler.

 

Alfred, who was looking down at the boy on the settee, simply nodded.

 

“Come on gang, lets leave Al and Clark to tend to the wounds while we clean up” Oliver offered after returning with the kit.  
He didn’t want to just leave everything for Alfred to do, while the butler was seeing to Bruce’s wounds.  
He had asked for their help and dammit if he wasn’t going to ensure Alf got all the help he needed.

 

Dinah and Diana looked as if they were going to protest, but when they saw the determination on his face, they relented against the logic of what had Oliver said.  
It wasn’t going to take all of them to treat Bruce.  
And none of them had X-ray vision like Clark, who could utilise it to locate the other damaged areas.

 

Dinah just shook her head at the whole situation.

 

Diana was still reeling inside, as was the case every time she saw Bruce in Kal’s arms.

 

Oliver shooed the two ahead of him as he shuffled out, looking back over his shoulder, an apology on his face when he saw the doped up figure laid out once more.

 

There would be Hell to pay, he knew.

 

Alfred looked at the boy sprawled on the furniture.  
He wasn’t as firmly in the grip of the drug induced haze yet, but would be soon.

“Shall we begin Mr Kent?” he said, opening the medical kit. 

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

When Diana pops her head back in to check on progress, Alfred is stitching the stab wound on Bruce’s chest.

 

Clark is speaking softly “On the right hand side, the second rib from the bottom is badly bruised but not fractured.”  
There is obvious pain in Kal’s eyes even as he uses his X-ray vision.

 

"We will still wrap it well. You said there was another?" Alfred asked.

 

Clark nodded.  
His heart was breaking as he tortured himself looking at every one of Bruce's injuries.

 

Alfred could feel the pain emanating from the Super, and understood the gravity of the situation.  
“Do you need a break Mr Kent?  
Something to drink?  
Master Bruce will drift in and out of a doze for several hours now” he offered.

 

Bruce, in his semi conscious state, growled softly “Alfred….”

 

“Shush my boy. We’re taking good care of you. You are safe” Alfred reassured his injured charge.

 

Clark looked at the pair and decided a small break would help his deflating spirit. “I’ll be back in a moment Alfred” he advised.  
Using super speed, he rushed from the room and into a nearby bathroom. Leaning on the vanity, his choked back tears flowed.  
He sobbed quietly, head in his hands, letting all the held back feelings come rushing out.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Diana watched Alfred finish the few stitches the stab wound needed, and place a dressing on the wound.  
“Can I help?” she offered quietly.

 

Alfred nodded.  
“Thankyou Miss Prince.  
We need to sit him up to wrap the ribs.  
There’s also extensive bruising to his shins and arms.  
We will wrap the worst of them after applying an ointment to assist with healing.”

 

Diana nodded and moved to lift Bruce’s torso against herself, wrapping her arms gently around the handsome man.  
Finally, Bruce was going to be in her embrace for a change!  
Although the situation was serious, she couldn’t help the smile that bloomed on her face.

 

Her happiness was short lived as Bruce began to moan and struggle.  
He seemed to resist her touch, flinching away as if she burnt him.  
She looked over at Alfred who had a frown on his face.

 

Although Alfred didn’t say anything aloud, he could see the distinct difference in the way his charge reacted to both Mister Kent and Miss Prince.

 

Bruce’s struggles increased, and the potential of exacerbating the injuries made continuing with Miss Prince’s help risky.  
Alfred pondered asking Mister Queen or Miss Lance, but he knew the truth of who it was that Master Bruce needed, even if Master Bruce didn’t know it himself yet.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Oliver and Dinah had cleared the dining room, with Diana’s help.  
As they were heading back to the parlour, Oliver heard a muffled sob from the restroom in the hallway.  
“Be with you in a tick” he called to Dinah as she continued.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

As she walked away from Oliver, Dinah had heard the quiet noise as well.  
She felt bad for Clark, the guilt must be eating him alive.  
He may be the strongest man, well alien, but he was a softie, with a big heart.  
Everyone knew that Clark and Bruce were best friends, even as the Bat denied it.  
She shook her head sadly.  
Knowing there would be consequences for them all, she knew that Clark would be the one to face the harshest reprisals from the Batman.  
Nodding at Oliver, she continued into the parlour.

 

Seeing Bruce writhing and moaning in Diana’s arms had the woman racing over to help.  
Diana’s face was a mixture of sadness and frustration, Dinah noted.  
The Canary was rooting for her friend, the Amazonian’s interest in Bruce was a well versed topic between the two of them.

 

She reached out to help, but Bruce just seemed to fight harder even under the influence of his medication.

*~*~*~*~*

In the hallway, Oliver watched Dinah disappear down the corridor.Once she was out of sight, he tapped gently on the door.  
Without raising his voice, Superman’s hearing mean’t there was no need to shout after all, he called softly “Clark? It’s just me, Oliver. The girls are gone.”

 

There was the sound of running water before the door unlocked.  
Oliver looked up into the puffy red eyes of the Man of Steel.  
He pushed into the small room and shut the door behind him, affording the pair of them some privacy.

 

“Oliver” Clark said plaintively “he’s never going to forgive me.  
The injuries, his plan, and now…. now…. I forced him….” the dark haired man began to sob again, unable to speak.

 

Oliver, not really knowing what to do, rinsed a washcloth under the tap before handing it over to Clark.  
“Don’t get ahead of yourself” he advised, resting a reassuring hand on Clark’s shoulder.  
“Yes, we know Bruce will be mad, but lets face that when it happens.  
There’s no point tying yourself up in knots right now.  
We need you to help us help Bruce.  
He needs you Blue.  
Haven’t you noticed that he only calms down when you are around?”

 

Clark huffed “I guess.  
Although he didn’t appreciate the way we went about medicating him, he didn’t seem calm then”

 

Clark was taking deep breaths, swallowing down the desire to weep once more.  
Oliver had seen more than enough to draw conclusions that weren’t incorrect, at least on Clark’s part.  
Who knew what Bruce would feel later.  
Clark was confident that Bruce’s fury would know no bounds when it came to the betrayal the Bat had already expressed.

 

“Well, he needs you for the moment.  
And I promise, we won’t let him Kryptonite your ass when he comes around” Oliver tried to lift Clark’s spirits and grinned when the Boy Scout gave a wobbly smile.

 

Clark took a few more moments to wipe his face and run his fingers through his hair. He didn’t look presentable, but he was better thanks to Oliver.

 

“Come on Blue, let’s take care of our stubborn friend” Oliver said, opening the door and leading them down the hallway.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

As Oliver and Clark entered the parlour, Bruce let out a ragged growl. The injured man wasn’t knocked out, but not lucid either. He started to fight off the two women who were trying to hold him steady.

 

“Oliver, Clark, get over here” called Dinah.

 

Bruce wasn’t a small man, his flailing arms and kicking legs could hurt Dinah even if it wouldn’t hurt the Amazonian.  
At least not physically.

 

Clark hesitated in the doorway as Oliver moved to help the ladies.  
Seeing Diana embracing Bruce lit a fire inside him.  
Despite Bruce’s thrashing, Clark felt jealousy raise it’s ugly head.  
Clark gave himself a little shake, knowing what the feeling was, accepting it, he tried to put it aside.  
His memory provided him with images of his time with Bruce on the rooftop, in Metropolis, and the master bedroom here at the Manor.  
No, he told himself.  
There was no need to be jealous.

 

Oliver approached the settee and was nearly kicked in the face.  
Diana still had a grip around his torso, and Dinah was trying to grab his arms.  
Alfred stood back out of harms way.  
Oliver thought about sitting on the Bat’s legs for a moment before remembering the bruising that was already there.  
Looking up at Clark in the doorway, he called “Don’t just stand there Boy Scout, get in here”

 

Oliver was trying to put enough pressure on Bruce’s knees to stop the legs from bending to kick out, but careful enough not to further injure his friend.

 

He looked up in time for Clark to catch one of the hands that had slipped Dinah’s hold.

 

Immediately, the Bat settled.  
All the fight simply went out of him.

 

Everyone in the room, who was still conscious, looked on in amazement.

 

“A new Super Power?” Dinah asked.  
She was astonished by what had happened.

 

“I… I….” Clark stammered, sounding like his Reporter persona.

 

Diana looked away from where Kal placed Bruce’s hand in between his palms.  
The gurgling in her stomach wasn’t from digesting breakfast.  
She felt nauseous.  
She also refused to look at Clark, or where his hands held Bruce’s.

 

Oliver just watched the women carefully.  
Whatever was happening between McBroodyBat and the Boy Scout was becoming glaringly obvious.  
Natural curiosity aside, he needed to deflect a potential situation.  
Glancing over at Alfred, he met the Englishman’s eyes.

 

Alfred wasn’t shocked by what had just happened.  
The reactions of his ward seemed a little extreme, but nonetheless, he was pleased to see him settle.

 

“Perhaps if Mister Kent and Miss Prince were to exchange places, we can get on with dressing the worst of the injuries and leave the bruising until later.” the older man suggested.

 

Oliver could see Diana tensing up at the suggestion.He needed another distraction, and fast.

 

“Diana, doesn’t Themyscira have a salve for healing bruises that works rapidly?” he asked. Oliver admitted it was a bit desperate of him.

 

Diana nodded, but didn’t respond as she handed Bruce back over to Clark.  
She slid off the settee and Kal slid into where she had been sitting.  
Why did she feel this was a reflection of bigger events?  
Was Kal taking her place in more ways than one?

 

Dinah had stopped trying to get hold of Bruce’s hands when he ceased his struggles.  
She raised an eyebrow at her friend, watching Diana’s shifting expressions.  
Admittedly, if she were in Diana’s place, she wouldn’t be so calm.  
There was obviously more going on here than she was aware of.  
Looking over at Oliver, she had a feeling that her blonde boyfriend knew more than he was letting on.

 

Clark slid onto the settee, and rested Bruce’s back against his chest once more.  
The Dark Knight seemed to settle further, dropping into a light sleeping state.  
He still seemed to be growling a little, but Clark could swear it was more like a purr.  
The big, mean Bat was really a cute kitty at heart.  
Clark tried not to smile at the image that came to mind.

 

Clark looked away from Bruce before he could ascribe further cat attributes to the sleeping Bat.

 

It was then that Clark’s gaze landed on Diana.  
She had a tightness around her eyes and a frown on her forehead.  
He wanted to feel guilty for Bruce’s reaction but he couldn’t.  
As much as he wanted to reassure his friend, he knew it would be a lie, and he didn’t believe Diana deserved that.  
Clark would have told her the truth, if he knew himself what it was.  
He shifted his gaze to Dinah and Oliver.  
The pair were staring at him.  
Dinah was wide eyed and Oliver was smirking.

 

Clark had no idea what to say at this point.  
However, he was luckily saved by Alfred.

 

“Thankyou Mister Kent.  
Now maybe we can get those ribs wrapped before retiring Master Bruce to rest upstairs” he said, reaching for the appropriate strapping from the medkit.

 

Dinah moved to Alfred’s side and prepared scissors and other things that would be needed to efficiently get the job done.

 

Oliver stood and crossed his arms.Clark looked just as stunned as the rest of them, but Oliver had seen the same thing in the car.  
Combine that with the actions on the rooftop, he was convinced there had to be some form of relationship brewing between the two.  
As much as he could sympathise with Diana’s pain, he remembered well his time pining after Dinah, he knew that Bruce wouldn’t subconsciously choose to kiss Clark without underlying feelings involved.  
Oliver nearly snorted out loud at the thought of the stoic Bat having feelings, but he pushed it down.  
Now was not the time.

 

He continued to observe as Clark and Alfred manoeuvred BroodyMcBrood around to dress the ribs.  
Damn, but Bruce was a rainbow of bruises already.Purples, yellows, blues, black with an underlying hint of green.  
That was not going to improve his Batness’ mood when he eventually woke.

 

He continued to rack his brain.

 

Diana breathed deeply.  
Her gaze caught sight of a clock on the mantle.  
Time had been creeping past and she hadn’t kept track.  
She sighed to herself remembering she had Diplomatic Duties today.  
A brunch was to be held in Washington and she was required to attend as Ambassador of Themyscira.

 

As much as she wanted to stay and figure out exactly what was going on, she knew she had responsibilities that came first.

 

It was probably for the best if she left.  
The tightness in her chest was beginning to suffocate her.  
She needed to distance herself from this issue with Bruce and Kal, and spend some time considering the matter.  
It would do no-one any good if she was to overreact now.  
Especially as Bruce was drugged and not in control of his actions.  
Although she wouldn’t look at Clark, she had glimpsed the confused expression he shared with Oliver.  
So whatever was going on, Kal seemed uninformed as well.

 

No, Diana decided.  
She would put it from her mind for the moment and let everyone focus on Bruce and his well being.  
He needed to recover.  
She wanted to reach out and touch his cheek but hesitated.  
The Gala was soon.  
Diana would sort her emotions out before then.  
She was looking forward to her date, even if she had to endure Brucie Wayne as part of the process.

 

“I must leave you soon” she said softly to Dinah “Will you be able to handle Bruce?”  
It was an irrelevant question when Clark was on hand to assist.

 

“Diana?” questioned Dinah.

 

“Duty calls” Diana responded.

 

Dinah frowned.  
As Alfred started to move away to show her to the door, Dinah gently tapped his arm and offered to do it.  
It would give them time for a brief chat before Diana’s departure.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

The two moved away, collecting Diana’s lasso and tiara from the study on the way.  
At the door to the Manor, Dinah pestered her friend to tell her what was going through her mind, but Diana refused.  
Not only was it something Diana wanted to resolve herself, but Kal would be able to hear their conversation, intentionally or not.  
She bid Dinah farewell with a hug and reassured her that everything would work out.  
Diana wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince Dinah, or herself.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

There was an awkward silence in the parlour.  
Alfred looked to Mister Kent with a raised eyebrow and a flash of eyes towards Oliver.

 

Clark groaned internally.  
“He knows” he said in a whisper

Alfred’s eyebrow rose further.  
“All of it Mister Kent?”

 

“Enough” was Clarks embarrassed reply, a blush creeping up his neck.

 

“I see” said the gentlemen’s gentleman.  
Alfred was the soul of discretion, but if Oliver was aware of this thing between Mister Kent and Master Bruce, his curiosity demanded to know why.

 

“There was an incident on the roof Al” Oliver smirked “Two I think?”

 

Clark nodded and the blush rose higher.

 

“I see” the butler repeated.  
“And do you have an answer for this unusual behaviour Mister Kent?”

 

“I’d like to know too, preferably before Dinah returns.  
She’s only seen what happened in this room, same as Diana.” Oliver added.

 

Clark looked down at the resting billionaire.  
His chest clenched.  
“I…don’t know” his mind was racing to figure it out , the same as Oliver and Alfred were.  
Bruce shivered in his arms.

 

“Time for Master Bruce to find his bed” Alfred smirked “I trust you remember the way?”

 

Oliver’s eyebrows nearly connected with his hairline at that comment.  
“Remember?” he enquired cheekily.

 

“Remember what?” Dinah asked as she rejoined the boys in the parlour.

 

Clark couldn’t even stammer out an answer.

 

Oliver’s eyes twinkled. He didn’t have a distraction this time.  
Not that his last one had been useful in the slightest.

 

Once again, Alfred came to the rescue.  
“The BatMobile Miss Lance.  
It is currently sitting near the IceBurg Lounge in Gotham, and must be retrieved”

 

Oliver let out a whoop, then covered his mouth as Bruce groaned and shifted restlessly.

 

Dinah smirked.  
“I’m driving”

 

“Oh Hell no Little Bird” Oliver retorted.  
“I’ve been itching to drive that since I first laid eyes on it”

 

“You’re not the only one” Dinah replied, crossing her arms and giving Oliver a hard look.

 

“While you resolve who is driving, I shall ask Mister Kent to carry Master Bruce to his bed” Alfred’s lips were definitely not twitching, as he butler contained his mirth.  
The Star City duo were entertaining him no end.

 

Alfred looked to Mister Kent, who nodded.

 

As Alfred and Clark left the room, with Clark carrying Bruce bridal style upstairs, the sound of a spirited ‘discussion’ could be heard beginning behind them.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Arriving at the master suite, Alfred opened the door and stepped back to allow Clark to carry Bruce to the huge bed.  
He didn’t want to relinquish his hold on Bruce.  
Alfred stepped around him to pull down the covers before moving to close the heavy curtains.  
Moments later, Clark reluctantly deposited Bruce on the fine sheets.  
Alfred twitched the covers over the boy as Clark stepped back a few paces.

 

Bruce began to fidget once more.  
Alfred raised an eyebrow at the Kryptonian.  
Clark looked like a stunned mullet “I don’t know Alfred” he said exasperatedly.

 

“I implore you Mister Kent, please stay with him?” Alfred asked with twinkling eyes. “It’s obvious he gets restless and fights the medication without your presence. He needs all the rest he can get.”

 

“Alfred, I….” he begins.

 

The butler is definitely smirking as he interrupts Clark.“This is not your first visit to this bedroom Master Kal”  
Alfred deliberately used the Kryptonian’s name this time, to reinforce his knowledge of the previous events.

 

Clark’s blush is a crimson stain on his cheeks.

 

“I need someone to stay while I drive Mister Queen and Miss Lance to the location of the BatMobile” Alfred’s eyes are positively sneaky.  
“I will also be required to instruct them on the anti theft systems on board.  
They’ll need assistance just to get the over complicated bugger started.  
It could be some time until we return.”

 

Clark unzips the hoodie, his house shield emblazoned on his chest is visible in the darkened room.  
“I’d like to be more comfortable if I am to stay a while” Clark mumbles.

 

Alfred nods and Clark zips into the ensuite bathroom.  
He quickly strips the sweats and strips out of his uniform.  
Hesitating for a moment, he shrugs his shoulders before removing his underwear and slipping the sweat pants and hoodie back on.He had said he wanted to be comfortable, and he already felt awkward with the situation.  
Clark was determined to let Bruce rest, and pondered a nap for himself.  
Hanging his blue suit, sans cape, on a nearby hook, he returns to see Alfred leaning over Bruce.  
“Boy, what is going on with you?” the elder asked gently as he brushed Bruce’s bangs out of the dozing man’s eyes. “And you need a haircut” he admonished.

 

Clark cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the knowledge that he was causing stress to both Alfred and Bruce.

 

Pondering if this is similar to what the walk of shame must be like, Clark moves to the other side of the bed and settles on top of the covers.

 

Alfred gives him a look.  
“I don’t want to make things worse than they already are by actually getting into bed with him Alfred. It will be bad enough when he wakes up.” Clark explains.

 

Alfred smirks.  
“As you wish Master Kal”  
With that, the canny Englishman steps out of the door and closes it softly.

 

As soon as Clark is sitting comfortably against the head board, he feels Bruce move closer.  
The man is once again, practically purring as he presses himself against the naturally warmer Kryptonian.  
Clark almost regrets not getting into the bed because Bruce seems to want to curl up on him like a giant panther.  
Head resting back on the surface behind him, Clark goes through the list in his mind of all the reasons Bruce will be furious with him.  
This just seems like another item on that list.

 

Clark looks down at the drowsy form that has him gripped around the waist and gently runs his fingers through the soft dark hair.

 

“Oh Bruce” he murmurs.

 

Bruce just holds him tighter.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Bruce woke still feeling exhausted.  
In the dimness, he could tell he was in his room and in his own bed.  
There was a warmth that he seemed to be curled into.  
Keeping his eyes closed, he let the heat seep into his aching muscles and sighed, drifting away once more.

 

Clark had moved his hands away from Bruce as he thought he detected the change that indicated Bruce was waking.  
He heard the man curled up around him sigh, and welcomed it for the brief respite it was.  
Bruce’s temper would be worse than ever at him now.  
Not only for what had occurred in Gotham, not only for holding him for medication against his wishes, but being in his bed when Bruce had ordered him to leave his home.

 

Not knowing what to do when asked to stay, he had lain on top of the blankets only to have Bruce draw closer and closer.  
Eventually, Bruce’s arms were wrapped around the Super’s waist, and his head rested against Clark’s flank.  
Clark tried to stop the fluttering of his heart, sure that Bruce would hear it hammering away.  
Unwilling to face the consequences just yet, Clark relaxed when he sensed Bruce fell back asleep.  
Gently, he curled his arms around the sleeping form, and hoped he would be afforded the opportunity to enjoy Bruce in his arms before the Bat ripped it all away.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

End Note: I'm contemplating doing a Joyride in the BatMobile chapter.  
What do you think?

And for those wondering, Shayera isn't in recent chapters for a reason ;)  
But she will be returning shortly.  
Boy will she have fun catching up on recent events. 

*~*~*~*~*


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the Special Chapter, as promised.
> 
> A drugged Bat.
> 
> An anxious Kryptonian.
> 
> That strange connection that seems to be growing.
> 
> Alone, in bed, in an empty Manor.
> 
> What did you all think would happen?
> 
> *~*~*~*~*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Blarp Blarp Blarp*
> 
> *WheeeeeeWoooooo*
> 
> *Blerp Blerp*
> 
> *Loud Honking*
> 
> *Air Horn Blasting*
> 
> This is your smut warning.
> 
> Porn ahead.
> 
> Abandon all hope.
> 
> Pure Sex Boundary.
> 
> Cross at own risk.
> 
> *~*~*~*~*
> 
> This still comes across to me as rushed.  
> I wanted to get this specific chapter out on this specific date.
> 
> Because, one month of Bats, Bonds & Kryptonite going online.  
> It's a bit of a milestone for me.  
> I was never sure I would actually make it this far.
> 
> It is only thanks to the support of you wonderful readers.  
> The kudos and comments have kept me going.
> 
> So, here is smut as thanks.
> 
> Enjoy!!  
> *~*~*~*~*

*~*~*~*~*

 

A short time later......

 

Bruce can feel the thrumming, purring like a comfort inside him.  
He’s pressed up against a warmth that makes him want to grin.  
Bandages pull him up short as he tries to shift.  
He really doesn’t want to open his eyes.  
  


“Bruce” he hears his name softly spoken.  
His heart ratchets up a notch.  
He knows that voice.  
Memories slip through his mind like warm honey.  
  
 

Not wanting to face anything right away, he slides down a little to bury his face into the side of toned abdominal muscles.  
A hand is pressed against his cheek, the touch lighter than a feather.  
He wants to rub himself into it like a big cat.  
  
 

Bruce is still more than a little floaty, hazy, fuzzy even.  
Even in this state, he can recognise when he’s still under the influence.  
Smirking to himself, he begins to rub his lips against the clothed body lying next him.

 

Clark inhales sharply.  
This was not the response he was expecting.  
Thinking that when Bruce finally woke, he would be expelled from the bedroom, the Manor, and probably Bruce’s life entirely, he didn’t expect the mild warmth of Bruce’s breath to seep towards his skin through the material.

 

Bruce’s hands twitched, and started moving in slow shallow motions.  
The shoulder dislocation may have temporarily limited his range of movement, but it was comfortable for now.  
He gently slid his hands under the edge of the hoodie and touched bare flesh.  
Clark must have taken off his uniform, and redressed in the clothes Alfred had provided them all with, before lying on his bed.  
Bruce was only wearing a grin and his boxers underneath the blankets.  
  


Feeling that soft skin under his fingers, Bruce blew his breath again into the fabric his face was pressed into.  
He felt Clark’s breath hitch.  
Letting his hands roam, the bottom hem rides up higher, slowly, bit by bit.  
As soon as he can, Bruce’s lips contact skin, and he lights up inside brighter than the stars.  
  


“Clark” he breathes against the naked expanse under his mouth.

 

Clark bites his bottom lip as he feels an erection spring to life.  
Just as before, the thought of Bruce and what he’s currently doing has him hard and aching.  
Not knowing how to respond, not wanting to spoil the moment by doing the wrong thing, he hesitates.  
If Bruce opens his eyes, he will see the tent his cock has made inside the sweat pants.  
Clark hadn’t kept any underwear on when he changed, hoping to be relaxed in Bruce’s company for as long as possible.  
  


He wasn’t relaxed now!  
  
 

He wanted Bruce, he wanted to stretch that body out and kiss every inch of him.  
The injuries he’d caused prevented him from slamming the lithe form down onto the bed and letting himself act on his desires.  
Colours flared behind his eyelids every time he blinked.  
The cool touch of the fingers dragging over his taut skin has his senses going into overdrive.  
The strange tension in his gut seemed to pick up speed, sending pulses through him.  
  


Bruce’s tongue slipped out to gently lick at the invulnerable flesh.  
He didn’t need to open his eyes to know the Kryptonian was hard, mere centimetres from where his face drew slowly closer to the top of a hipbone, his hands continued their exploration downwards.  
  


As his fingers skimmed the waistband, he let a pinky dip behind the elastic, sliding inside the fabric and pushing the sweats down further and further.  
Clark’s breathing was rapidly increasing, small vibrations shook in his body where withheld moans threatened to spill.  
  


Bruce smirked and adjusted his arms.  
Without giving Clark time to think about it too much, one hand pulled the sweats down over the straining length of that Super dick.  
  
 

Swiftly, he moved his lips to cover the head of the exposed cock, letting his tongue dip into the slit and tasting the pre-come that was gathering there.  
His shoulder gave an annoying wrench, but Bruce didn’t let it distract him from the flavour melting into his mouth.  
Smiling around the girth, Bruce let himself enjoy the moment, floating on a current of bliss.

 

Clark couldn’t hold back anymore.  
“Bruce, oh Bruce” he moaned, the name leaving his lips in an explosive breath.

 

Bruce enthusiastically hollowed his cheeks as he sucked that incandescent heat into his mouth.  
The angle didn’t allow him to take all of it, so he slipped it from his mouth and began to lick up and down it’s length.  
The flat of his tongue pressed against alien warmth.

 

“Bruce, Rao Bruce” Clark whined.  
The feeling of Bruce as he lapped against his aching hardness had him filling with need, want, desire.  
Biting his bottom lip hard, he exhaled sharply through his nose and tried to concentrate on committing this to his memory.

 

Bruce smirked and let his teeth latch onto the invulnerable foreskin.  
Clark’s body shuddered.  
“Fuck Bruce…..” he whimpered.  
  


Bruce tugged and licked and sucked.  
Telling himself he was under the influence, he could enjoy the sensation of that smooth skin in his mouth.  
His hand dropped to grip the base of the cock he was enjoying.  
This felt too good, too right.  
The strange headache he had been experiencing seemed to twist, changing from pain to pleasure, inside his skull.  
Bruce didn’t think about it, focusing himself wholly on the task at hand.  
  
 

“Bruce… I can’t….” Clark began.  
Bruce lifted his face away from that delicious length to bury his face in Clark’s treasure trail.  
Moving slowly up, he dipped his tongue into the belly button.  
His hand began to stroke the large, hard cock, slowly and with agonising calculation.  
  


Clark’s trembling was still increasing.  
Bruce started to stretch his neck so he could move his lips higher.  
He could see a dark nipple peeking from under the rucked up hem of the top Clark wore, he wanted to bite it.  
Trying to leverage with the arm that was still behind Clark, he pushed up.  
His shoulder flared pain and as much as Bruce wanted to ignore it, he couldn’t.  
  


He dropped back onto the bed with a groan, releasing his grip on the hard length.

 

“Shoulder?” Clark asked.  
Bruce nodded, and reached from his good side to grasp the zipper on the front of the bunched hoodie and pull.  
With a smirk on his face and the spark of lust in his eyes, he released the broad muscled chest from the confines of the clothing.  
Running his hands over the smooth planes of muscle, the rippling abdominals that tensed beneath his touch, Bruce couldn’t wait any longer.  
Latching on to the unzipped material, he dragged Clark to him.  
  


Soon Clark’s mouth descended onto his.  
Bruce remembered this.  
He licked into the inferno, tasting Clark’s unique flavour.  
His body shuddered as another memory started to surface.  
Bruce pushed it away so he could concentrate on the moist, clever tongue that invaded his mouth.  
  
 

Clark’s tongue could do things no humans could do.  
Arousal spiked hard in Bruce.  
He huffed a breath into Clark’s mouth before sucking that clever appendage into him, swallowing Clark’s exotic flavour.

 

Clark moaned into Bruce’s mouth.  
Once again, the rest of the world faded and all he could focus on was Bruce.  
Bruce in his arms, Bruce touching him, Bruce wanting him.  
The Kryptonian shook with restrained passion, opening himself wider.  
Kissing Bruce Wayne was the best thing he ever wanted, needed.  
  
 

They were making noises into each other’s mouths, hands moving everywhere and anywhere.  
Nibbles and bites, pressure inside and out, they synchronised without realising.  
Clark had to reign in his desires, Bruce was still hurt even if he couldn’t feel it.  
What Clark didn’t do was stop.  
He doubted a world catastrophe could stop him now.  
  
 

Taking Bruce’s face in both his hands, he licked in again and again.  
His tongue explored every centimetre of Bruce’s mouth repeatedly.  
Sliding against that exquisite tongue, playing against the ridges on the roof of his mouth, lingering along the inside of his cheeks.  
And then Bruce returned the favour.  
Bruce was inside his mouth, engulfing him, overwhelming him.  
  
 

Clark kissed him with all the unspoken feelings of lust, love and possession flowing between them. Clark owned them all, and tried to share the building emotions.  
  
 

Clark forgets to breathe for a moment and melds his lips to Bruce's.  
When he releases Bruce's mouth and Bruce draws in shuddering gasps of air, it’s like he's drawing Clark's very essence into himself.  
  


Their foreheads press together, two pairs of blue eyes fall into each other, and when Bruce licks his his kiss bruised lips, it's the most erotic thing he's ever witnessed.

 

Their lips clash again.  
Mouths opening and air becomes a secondary need, they breathe each other, in and out, their tongues sliding against each other sensuously.

 

Bruce’s mind is awash with haze and need and want.  
His insides are alight in a welcome fire.  
The nerves in his body are awash with raging pulses of electricity, igniting a deep burning flame.

 

Clark began to slide his erection against Bruce’s leg, riding the lean muscle.  
Bruce bent his knee to give Clark more.  
Clark had to be careful not to hump Bruce's leg through the bed.

 

Clark was clearly panting, pressing his length against Bruce’s thigh.  
Bruce smirked against Clark’s lips, sliding his hand up under the open hoodie, then down into the pants and across the globes of his ass.  
Clark begin to writhe into the touch, anticipating where Bruce would linger next.  
Bruce grabbed a hip, and pushed his own towards Clark, leaving Clark in no doubt of Bruce’s own arousal.

 

“Fuck me” Bruce whispered into his mouth.  
  
Clark stifles the groan that threatens to leave him, “But Bruce..”  
  
“Let me fuck you then” Bruce’s tongue dips back into his mouth after exhaling the words.  
  
“Your injuries” Clark could kick himself for bringing it up now.

 

Bruce grins against his mouth, before rolling on his back and crossing his arms behind his head.  
  
 

“Ride me Clark” the seductive voice of Brucie Wayne drawls.  
“There’s lube in the bedside, bottom drawer”  
  
 

Clark hesitates for a nanosecond before he’s leaning across Bruce’s legs and flips on the elegant lamp next to the bed.  
Then he’s ripping the drawer open, scrabbling around for the small bottle within.  
  


Bruce’s hips lift suggestively and one arm comes down to slap the invulnerable ass.  
“Do you want me to prep you?” that smokey voice asks.  
  
 

Clark shudders in anticipation “Yes, oh yes please?” he pleads.  
  


“Pass me the bottle, and float yourself above me.” Bruce smirks “I want to watch what I’m doing”.  
  
 

Clark drops the bottle next to Bruce and spins in a whirlwind.  
The hoodie and sweatpants he was barely wearing anymore go flying across the bedroom.  
  
 

As his large hands caress Bruce’s ankles, his body hovers for a moment before his knees come to rest gently either side of Bruce’s naked torso.  
  


Cool hands massage the cheeks of his ass, pressing the flesh together and then parting it.  
Clark blushes because Bruce has a good view of his rear entrance.  
A thumb slides down his crack as those hands glide up and down his butt.  
Clark arches his back in anticipation and he closes his eyes.  
The thumb goes past his clenching hole to press against his perineum, while Bruce’s other hand picks up the bottle of lube and flips it open in a practised move.  
  
 

The cool liquid seems to crawl from the top of his crack, sliding down towards his throbbing centre.  
After hearing the cap of the bottle close, Clark holds his breath in anticipation.  
  


A long dextrous finger glides through the slickness, moving with infinite slowness that has Clark wanting to wriggle.  
The thumb from his perineum begins to slide up, stopping just beneath his hole.  
It presses against the edge and pulls it open from below, as that finger travels slowly lower.  
  


As it reaches it’s target, the digit circles the opening several times.  
Clark does moan now, long and low.  
Bruce chuckles as his finger slips past the ring of muscle to the first knuckle.  
Clark tries desperately not to buck backwards, forcing it further inside himself.  
The single digit curls and spins from side to side, toying with the muscles just inside.  
When it slides in to the second knuckle, Clark drops his head to Bruce’s knees, exhaling loudly.  
It is only moments before that clever finger is pushing deeper, as far as it will go.  
Clark feels the brush oh so close to his prostrate, and sways his hips from side to side.  
A slap to his ass cheek makes him stop as the finger is sliding out again.  
  
 

“Mmmm Clark, so delicious” Bruce rumbles.  
  


Clark lifts his head towards the ceiling and his moan reverberates around the room.

 

Bruce chuckles again as the single finger begins it’s slow descent back into him.  
After what feels like forever, a slow rhythm is established and Clark is rocking back and forth in small shallow movements.  
  


Another slap to his ass stills him, and a second finger joins the first in shallow pushes, in and out, in and out, getting deeper with every push.  
  


Clark begins to shake with the effort of halting his own movement.  
Bruce chuckles again and pushes deep, in an unending slow motion penetration.  
  


Clark whimpers.  
Bruce begins to scissor the fingers apart a little more every time he delves inside and withdraws again.  
  


Soon, a third begins the langurous process all over again.  
Clark is whimpering on every exhale of breath.  
Feeling the frantic stirring coiling around his insides as those long digits brush against that special place.  
The tingle in his balls begins to ramp up, his cock is weeping freely, dripping onto Bruce’s chest.  
  


By the time the Billionaire has stretched him with three fingers, pressing more and more on his prostrate, Clark can’t wait any longer.  
  


Clark flies up to the ceiling, and turns his body to look at Bruce.  
“Mmmm, I was enjoying that” the gorgeous man mumbles, seemingly annoyed.  
Bruce’s hand moves to take his own cock, but Clark is faster.  
He swoops down and takes the wide girth into his mouth, swallowing the entire length from root to tip.  
  


Bruce gasps, and then moans wantonly.  
The noise just makes Clark harder.  
Wrapping his tongue around the length, he vibrates it enough to get Bruce trying to pull at his hair.  
“Kal… I…. I won’t…. last” he grits out through clenched teeth.  
Clark smirks as he pulls off with a loud pop.  
  
 

Then he floats up to take Bruce’s face between his hands, kissing the man fiercely.  
His tongue presses inside Bruce’s mouth and Bruce sucks it in.  
They are both tangling hands in each other’s hair, biting and teasing lips, tongues wrestling, tasting each other as if their lives depended on it.  
It's filthy, Clark can't get enough.  
  
 

Clark’s body settles along Bruce’s, and Bruce begins to slide his hands down.  
Caressing his neck.  
Gliding across shoulders.  
Glancing across the planes of his back, down towards his hips.  
Clark brings his knees up under him, and settles them on the bed astride Bruce’s hips.  
Bruce grabs him and begins grinding against him.  
Their cocks are sliding against each other, and Bruce is huffing moans against Clark’s moist lips.  
  
 

Clark sits up, and grabs the bottle of lube.  
After squirting a generous amount into the palm of one hand, he begins to thoroughly slick up Bruce’s cock.  
Bruce is up on his elbows, watching and biting his bottom lip.  
  
 

Clark can't help but admire the lust filled expression, it’s the sexiest thing he’s ever seen.  
Well, since the last time he saw Bruce debauched.  
Their eyes lock, cerulean blue on arctic wolf blue, desire in both pairs.  
  


Clark lifts up onto his knees before moving forward a fraction.  
He raises an eyebrow at beautiful man, who is watching Clark’s hand move up and down Bruce's length.  
“I want to see” he whispers huskily.  
  


Clark just wants to ram himself onto that long, weeping dick instantly, but he reminds himself to be gentle.  
He can feel the pulse racing just under the surface of that hardness.  
  
 

Gripping the base of Bruce’s throbbing dick, Clark manoeuvres himself until his clenching hole is directly over the slick head.  
He pauses until Bruce looks up again.  
  


As soon as Bruce see’s Clark’s face, his breath is gone.  
Whisked away by the blatant sexuality he can see on the Boy Scout.  
It’s not the first time he’s seen it, and yet, it still blows his mind.  
“Do it” he rasps, his throat has gone dry and he’s gulping air before they even begin.

 

Clark smoulders at Bruce, and begins to lower himself.  
As much as he wants to just ram that thick cock inside, he decides Bruce can have a taste of agonisingly slow too.

 

Clark’s gaze hasn’t shifted.  
Bruce is torn between looking at lust filled eyes, or the sight of himself entering Clark’s hole.  
Flickering between the two, he flexes his hips slightly.  
  


“Ah ah” Clark admonishes, almost lifting himself off.  
  
 

“Clark” Bruce growls “Kal. Fuck me Kal, fuck me now.”  
  


Clark feels the compulsion to obey and decides slow can go jump in a river.  
He drops himself onto that cool hardness with a high pitched wail.

 

Bruce goes stiff.  
His cock is engulfed in red hot lava, and the burning sensation is crawling up his spine.  
He’s lying back, wanting more.  
Trying to be patient while Clark adjusts is pointless, Bruce figures.  
It’s not like he can hurt the invulnerable man.  
“Move” he grunts.

 

Clark is sitting astride Bruce, buried to the hilt.  
His chest is flexed, his neck taut, as he controls the desire to be fucked hard and long.  
  
 

Bruce’s single command has Clark moving before he’s fully aware of it.  
At first, he stays seated and tilts his hips back and forth, feeling the fat cock press against the prostrate that throbs in fast shots of electricity.  
He moans again, before leaning forward to take Bruce’s lips.

 

The kisses are filthy. They groan and whine into each other.  
Bruce tries to place his hands on Clark’s hips and lift him.  
Clark grabs the hands and pulls them back up over Bruce’s head.

 

Clark slides his hands closer to Bruce’s to twine their fingers together.  
They hold onto each other tightly, neither wanting to let go of the other.

 

The angle feels good inside him too.  
Using his special relationship with gravity means he can start to slide up and down the length without worrying if his knees will give out.  
  


Shuddering at feeling the engorged cock moving inside him, his movements start to get bigger. He’s gliding off further and coming back down harder with every stroke.  
  
 

Bruce’s hips are stuttering, trying to thrust up into Clark every time the stretched hole starts it’s descent onto the blood engorged dick.  
The tip brushes over Clark’s prostrate but he avoids changing the cant of his hips for now.  
He just wants to feel that fullness, that stretch, that satisfaction of riding his precious Bruce.  
Clark bites his lip again to stop the words from flowing out.

 

“Clark” and the word is dragged out from Bruce.  
His mind is filling with a numbness.  
The inferno is almost too much.  
His dick is on fire.  
It’s mind blowing.  
  
 

Bruce starts to arch, sore muscles be damned.  
He can’t resist wanting this so badly.  
“Clark” he rasps again.  
Bruce is panting so hard that he is amazed any sound comes out at all.

 

“Bruce” Clark’s damp lips takes Bruce’s in an intensely fierce kiss.  
Clark can’t hold out much longer.  
Bruce is beginning to make a noise he can’t describe.  
It’s like a cross between a whimper, a whine and a growl.  
It does things to him.

 

Clark is speeding up, increasing the rhythm between them, using his powers to negate the need for balance.

 

Bruce is thrusting up and pushing in, his muscles strain, pain mixing with pleasure as he gets closer to the ultimate orgasm he knows is building within.

 

Feeling the slick slide of flesh moving within, Clark releases Bruce's hands and leans back until he’s straddling the gorgeous body beneath him.  
Lifting and dropping, the tempo increases once more.

 

White begins to fill Bruce’s vision, the building explosion in his balls makes him arch, he can’t keep up with Clark’s movements.  
He’s stiff and straining all over, his toes are curling, his knees are trying to bend to give himself more, more, more.

 

Delicious friction builds inside Clark.  
His blood pounds and his heart races.  
The change in angle is hitting him perfectly, every time, like it was designed just for Clark’s body.

 

The thrumming between their bodies increases beyond anything either have experienced before.  
The vibration adding to the sensation of impending orgasm.

 

Bruce is shaking his head from side to side, eyes tightly closed and his glorious face screwed up in concentration.  
  


Sweat slides from his brow and glitters on Bruce's chest, Clark wants to lick every salty drop from that scarred surface.

 

It’s too much, he can’t hold on, Bruce's cock is engulfed by fluttering muscle as Clark also draws near to the inevitable conclusion.  
  


Bruce doesn’t want to come first.  
Opening his eyes briefly, he can see Clark’s own cock slapping against invulnerable abdominals.  
A long column of throat flashes in the light cast by the lamp, his head thrown back, lips parted and as sexy as Hell.  
  


That does it to Bruce.  
The thrumming deep in his gut has blown out to sing inside him, reverberating through every part of his body.  
He’s shuddering his climax without hesitation anymore.  
A whimper escapes him as he exhales and Clark continues to move, milking him for every drop.  
Whiteness begins to descend over his vision, but he focusses, he wants to see Clark come.  
  


His wait is short and Clark begins to tremble, one hand moves to wrap around the seeping cock but Clark’s exaggerated movements don’t allow for Bruce to maintain much of a grip.   
Clark’s own hand covers his, and their fingers catch, encircling the engorged length. 

 

“Bruce” Clark wails “Oh Rao, I’m going to….”

 

“Do it Kal-El, come for me” Bruce can only whisper, his mouth is so dry, but Clark hears him clearly and explodes all over Bruce’s stomach and chest.  
Bruce is almost deaf to everything around him as the song within reaches a crescendo.  
  
 

Bruce does hear Clark make a sort of trilling noise as something inside them both snaps closed.

 

The Super looks at Bruce’s half lidded eyes and his balls have exploded, emptying the contents until there is no more.  
  


Clark’s mind floats on a whirlwind of colour and light.  
The thrumming between them seems to lock, feeling more solid than ever.  
  


Clark collapses over Bruce, careful not to hurt the man under him further.  
Barely able to hold on to consciousness, he remembers not to drop his entire body weight onto the panting man.

 

Bruce struggles to keep his eyes open, his vision wants to white out completely, and he is drained of every drop of come.  
Clark’s orgasm is across his body, and he manages to swipe a finger through it before popping it into his mouth.  
The taste is unique, like Clark.

 

Clark watches Bruce taste the results of their spectacular sex.  
There is a stillness in his mind where before a throbbing had seemed to live.  
The space doesn’t feel empty, the opposite, it feels full and comfortable, as does his heart.

 

Bruce is barely holding onto consciousness as the Boy Scout leans forward to drag his lips against Bruce’s.  
Bruce hasn’t managed to catch his breath yet, stars exploding behind his eyes and dryness in his throat, he manages to croak one word.“Kal” he whispers hoarsely against those soft lips.

 

Clark smiles, and reluctantly lifts himself off Bruce’s deflating cock.  
The Kryptonian could go for round 2 within moments, but he see’s Bruce’s eyes fluttering, trying to stay open.  
  


“Sleep Bruce” Clark murmurs.  
A deep sigh leaves the man and his eyes drop closed.  
  


Clark will clean them both up in a moment, but he takes a few minutes to lie next to the Dark Knight, his fingers reaching to card through the soft black hair.  
“Rao, I love you Bruce” Clark whispers, knowing he doesn’t have the courage to say the words when the man will be lucid, he takes the opportunity to drink in the picture of the man he loves into his memory.

*~*~*~*~*


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Bat returns.
> 
> Superman has to face consequences.
> 
> The harsh light of reality bites.
> 
> Nothing comes between a Bat and his Mission, not even Superman.
> 
> *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise chapter!!
> 
> I was going to take a break over the weekend, relax, kick back, yada yada yada.
> 
> Then I remembered a few short notes I wanted to get down.  
> The story never stops in my head.
> 
> Then BAM!!!!
> 
> A chapter of angst.
> 
> Will the return of the Bat ruin everything?
> 
> Will Superman fight for his hearts desire?
> 
> *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

The Bat Returns.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next time Bruce wakes, he feels awful.  
All the muscles in his body ache.  
His mouth feels like it was stuffed with cotton, a sure sign of the strength of his forced sedation, and he’s very thirsty.  
There is a heat at his back, and Bruce begins to shift awkwardly.  
He had slept on the previously dislocated shoulder and it was throbbing.  
  


Groaning, he attempted to turn over, only to find he couldn’t.  
A pair of strong arms were wrapped around his waist, legs were tangled with his, and warm puffs of air tickled the back of his neck.  
  


Bruce’s eyes shot open.  
‘What the fuck?’ he thought to himself.  
The room was still dark, even with hints of sunlight filtering past the edges of the tightly drawn curtains.  
  


Searching his memory, he found it difficult to put the chain of events in order from when he was drugged at the IceBurg Lounge.  
He grimaced when he remembered how his operation had been foiled, when he remembered the journey in the back of the van, when he remembered the Justice League in Gotham.  
Another groan threaten to escape.  
  


Bruce was deliberately NOT thinking about Superman or Clark Kent.  
The big blue Boy Scout had scuttled his plans for retrieving the information regarding the weapons shipment.  
The kiss on the roof top.  
‘No No No, that was the drugs’ he tried to refocus.  
  


There was a quiet hum behind him, and arms held him tighter against that alien warmth.  
Bruce face palmed himself in his mind.  
Despite his attempt to concentrate on the pertinent facts, his brain kept returning to Clark, Kal, Superman.  
This wasn’t helped by the snuggling that was going on behind him.  
  


Images flashed in his consciousness.  
After the antidote on the rooftop, the fight about the second dose, the amazing sex in this bed - twice now.  
  


Bruce started to struggle in earnest.  
The strong arms would’t budge.  
He didn’t want to wake the Kryptonian, preferring to go to work down in his Cave without having to ‘talk’ about what had happened.  
Furious about the loss of information, he wanted to get the sting back on track.  
Contacting Arthur was a priority, along with talking with Victor about anything the teen had been able to recover.  
He also needed to talk to Jim.  
  


Part of Bruce would have liked nothing more than to ignore the whole mess and go back to sleep for a few more hours, but his bladder was full.  
There was no choice anymore.  
Bruce reached his hand to grip the forearm that was wrapped tightly across his stomach.  
Shaking it, “Clark” he said in a monotone voice.  
Nothing.  
“Clark” he spoke louder.  
Bruce started to smack the invulnerable skin.  
“KAL!!”

 

“Wha…..” Clark was bleary eyed and woke with a start.  
While he technically didn’t need sleep, he enjoyed it.  
Sleeping next to Bruce was better than being in a dream.  
They were the same thing lately.  
  


It took a moment for Clark to determine reality from his subconscious thoughts.  
Even when he did sleep, it was never as deeply as he was currently being roused from.  
He waited until he reestablished his equilibrium, and he could hear the thumping of the heartbeat he seemed to be hugging tightly.  
The sound of it was like music to his ears.  
  


It was then that he realised Bruce was literally growling at him.  
“Kal, let me up!!!”  
  


Clark startled and released Bruce quickly.  
The man leapt from the bed and stomped, naked, into the adjoining ensuite, slamming the door.  
When he realised what the splashing water was, he stopped listening and blushed scarlet.  
How long had Bruce been trying to wake him?  
  


The sound of the toilet flushing and then the shower turning on, had Clark groaning to himself.  
Batman was back.  
He flung his arm over his eyes as he began to panic inside.  
This would be it.  
Bruce was past all the drugs and medication.  
Part of Clark wanted to dress and leave before Bruce finished his morning ablutions, but then he remembered his suit was hanging in the same bathroom where Bruce was showering.  
  


Clark groaned aloud.  
Dragging himself from the comfortable bed, he found the sweat pants and hoodie near the door to the hallway.  
Listening carefully, he determined that the Manor was empty.  
He didn’t think he could face Alfred just yet, just as he didn’t want to face the Bat.  
Clark paced in the room, running his hands through his hair and worrying at his nails.  
What was he going to do?

 

Bruce had seen the blue suit hanging next to his robe.  
Wrenching on the taps in the shower, he knew Clark couldn’t leave before getting his suit back.  
It would have been easier if the Kryptonian left before he returned from the bathroom.  
No such luck it would seem.  
Why were things turning out this way?  
Life was determined to be difficult.  
He gritted his teeth and began to soap up.  
  


In the back of his mind, he could feel a rising tension.  
Bruce, who controlled his emotions ruthlessly, tried to push it away.  
When he realised the tension wasn’t consistent with his current state of mind, he pondered why he felt it at all.  
Leaning against the wall, using the arm not attached to his painful shoulder, he let the water flow over him.  
Soap suds circled the drain as he stood there.  
  


The dark tiles matched his mood.  
The conflict inside him grew, not helped by this mysterious tension that seemed to emanate from….where?  
He couldn’t place it.  
Examining his own emotions, there was the underlying anger that was ever present in his life.  
There was a frustration because of Clark’s actions, both negative and…. no, not positive, he told himself.  
Bruce was not familiar with this experience.  
Never had anyone been allowed to get under his skin the way Clark had.  
  


First, the initial visit to the Manor.  
Then his trip to Metropolis.  
And now….  
Bruce shook his head under the spray, sending clear droplets flying in all directions.  
They reflected his inner turmoil.  
His ‘feelings’ seemed to be changing directions before he could get a handle on them.  
  


Taking deep meditative breaths, he tried to tamp down everything.  
By letting himself blank off from the rollercoaster of thoughts, he emptied his mind completely.  
It was then that he noticed the strange feeling in his stomach had changed.  
Instead of a vibrating rattle that had wanted to shake his core, there was a gentle tautness that seemed located behind his belly button.  
He looked down but, of course, there was nothing to see.  
  


The painful headaches, throbbing behind his eyes, distracting him at the worst moments, was gone.  
There remained an unusual pressure.  
It wasn’t unpleasant, but for someone that knew his own body intimately, the unfamiliar sensations were not welcome.  
  


Bruce shut of the shower, rivulets of water trickled down his body, as if escaping the ill temper that was brewing inside him.  
Grabbing a towel, he resisted the urge to sigh.  
  


There can be no good to come of this.  
Risks and complications aside, the unusual behaviour of the alien from Kansas concerned him.  
As much as he wanted to think Clark had taken advantage of his state at the time, intrinsically it wasn’t the truth, and Bruce knew it.  
Grabbing a towel from the pile Alfred always kept the ensuite stocked with, he towelled himself with rough, economical movements.  
After rubbing at his hair to get rid of most of the moisture, he wrapped the cloth around his waist and stood at the vanity, staring at his reflection in the foggy mirror.  
  


Bruce wasn’t old, he wasn’t even 30, and yet he looked world weary and far older than his years.  
Bags lingered under his eyes, and his cheek held a mottled bruise.  
Scanning the rest of himself, he was covered in colour.  
Despite the armour he wore, he had taken a beating when flung around in the back of that van.  
Touching the shaded ribs that would need redressing, he felt the bone carefully.  
Satisfied there were no breaks, he looked at the unusual shadows on his arms and legs.  
None were hand shaped like had decorated his neck not long ago, and yet, they were the result of the actions of same person.  
  


Bruce gritted his teeth and looked back into the mirror.  
Brushing his teeth, he decided to skip having a shave.  
There were no meetings at WE he was required to attend, no Justice League conferences scheduled, and no patrol for the Bat until after the worst of his injuries healed.  
  


Running his hand through his hair to arrange the damp strands, he deliberated the man in the other room.  
There was no avoiding him.  
Bruce’s clothes were in the walk in, next to the ensuite, but he had to leave the wet area to get there.  
Clark needed his suit.  
  


Dropping his head briefly, he thought of how to get through the next few minutes.  
Determination overcame his steely eyes as he seemed to snap together.  
Reaching for the suit, he pulled it from the hook and grabbed the door handle.  
He had made a decision.

 

Clark paced.  
In the background he could hear the shower turn off.  
His heart stuttered, before picking up a faster pace.  
What was Bruce going to do?  
What was Clark going to do?  
Resolving in his mind to abide by whatever Bruce decided, the wait was interminable.  
  


He deliberated whether it would be Bruce or Bat that exited the bathroom.  
‘More than likely the Bat’ he thought to himself.  
The Bat meant facing the consequences.  
He’d be lucky if he didn’t get Kryptonite somewhere painful.  
  


Clark knew he’d fucked up, in more ways than one.  
The Bat would focus on the spoilt mission, and the antidote incident here in the Manor.  
Bruce? Well, that was harder for Clark to work out.  
Would Bruce be angry for Clark sleeping in his bed after ignoring the order to leave the Manor?  
How affected was Bruce by the medication when they'd had stunning sex together.  
  


Clark mentally groaned, the rooftop incidents.  
Plural.  
Would Bruce remember all of it?  
Clark felt positive that with the eidetic memory Bruce had, it was only a matter of time.  
A sharp spike of panic hit him.  
What if Bruce remembered Clark’s words?  
Spoken twice in fact.  
Once on the rooftop and once in this room.  
  


Clark felt confident Bruce had been asleep when he said the L word, here in the bedroom.  
But the rooftop?  
Clark didn’t know.  
Bruce had been sedated, shot up on pain relief, and hadn’t seemed himself at all.  
  


Clark flushed at the memory of Bruce not wanting to let him go, of practically climbing up his body despite Oliver’s presence.  
If Bruce had been more peripherally aware of the situation, he wouldn’t have behaved that way.  
  


Clark’s logical mind processed these thoughts at faster than human speed.  
However, he was so caught up in thinking through all the potential ifs, buts and maybes, that he missed the bathroom door being wrenched open.  
  


Startled, he looked up.  
It was definitely the Bat, he determined from Bruce’s expression.  
Suddenly, he found his suit thrown at him and Clark only just managed to catch it, despite super reflexes and speed.  
Bruce didn’t look at him, instead turning into the walk in to hunt for some clothes.  
  


Clark couldn’t help but stare at that body wearing only a towel draped around narrow hips, the same body that had been under him a short time ago.  
Cut muscles rippled down Bruce’s back, droplets fell from dark hair to slide down onto smooth skin.  
  


Clark gathered the blue material in his hands.  
Looking at his house symbol emblazoned on the chest, he tried to convince himself to be brave.  
As much as he deserved the fall out from his actions in Gotham, and here at the Manor, he wasn’t going to let the Bat walk all over him.  
He wanted to fight for what he felt in his heart.  
Did he have the right to?  
He felt the doubt rise, like a metal taste in the back of his throat.  
  


Using super speed, he entered the still steamy bathroom and splashed his face.  
Bruce hadn’t seen his underwear, sitting folded out of sight on a low shelf, under the pile of towels.  
He spun into his uniform, and still clean underwear, leaving the borrowed clothes in the nearby hamper.  
Returning to the bedroom, he resolved to wait.  
  


Second guessing Batman was never anything but an exercise in futility.  
Standing at the window, twitching the edge of the curtain, the sun attempted to shine through the haze stained sky.  
A little of his confidence returned with the weak rays as they hit his face.  
Yes, he would wait.

 

Bruce changed quickly into fresh clothes.  
Not bothering with more than simple necessity, he hesitated to return to the bedroom.  
Although Bruce had listened for a door or window opening, he heard none.  
The only thing he’d picked up on was a quick on and off of a tap in the bathroom.  
So, the blue clad hero, as Bruce was sure Clark would have changed, awaited him.  
Not for the first time, Bruce wished that Clark had simply left.  
It wasn’t the style of the small town farmers son, and Bruce knew it.  
  


Prepared for battle, he reentered the bedroom.

 

Clark looked up as Bruce returned.  
The blue of Bruce’s eyes glowed in the dimness, but there was a tightness there that was unmissable to his vision.  
Clark took a steadying breath.

 

Bruce saw Clark, standing within a sunbeam that shone between the drapes Clark held back.  
His breath left him.  
The filtered morning light shone in Clark’s dark hair.  
Cerulean blue eyes were shadowed by the light that seemed to halo behind the Kryptonian.  
Broad shoulders swathed in blue, the narrow tapered waist, the curving swell of biceps, outlined between dark and light.  
Bruce swallowed uncomfortably and crossed his arms, subconsciously becoming defensive.  
  


“Where’s the cape?” he asked in a low rumble.

 

Clark looked at the Dark Knight standing before him, damp bangs falling across steel blue irises, the odd rivulet of water sliding down the side of his neck.  
Clark couldn’t help what came out of his mouth.“Rao, you’re beautiful” he breathed.

 

Bruce looked away from Clark.  
“Cape?” he growled the question again.  
Why did Clark’s words make his heart leap in his chest.  
Viciously pushing away the rising heat inside him, he simply started walking towards the door.

 

Clark flushed at the words as soon as they left his lips.  
As the billionaire approached the door, he sped over to open and hold it for Bruce.  
As Bruce brushed past, he managed to stammer out “Uh… the study I think…. the cape….”

 

Bruce grunted and led the way.  
The sooner the Cape was returned to it’s owner, the sooner Clark would leave.  
Why did that thought make his gut lurch.  
Pushing away any distractions, he made a beeline for the study, and knew the Boy Scout was right behind him.

 

Clark followed Bruce to the study in silence.  
Why had he said that?  
‘Stupid stupid stupid’ he chided himself.  
This wasn’t going well, not at all.  
Unfortunately, Clark couldn’t think of anything to break the awkward silence during the short journey to the study.  
Silently sighing, he felt as if he was walking towards a fate that could very well be his undoing.

 

Bruce opened the door and entered.  
He glanced up at the portrait that hung over the fireplace, and Alfred’s words sprang to mind.

 

‘How will I face your parents after I pass, if you have never been happy?’ 

Alfred’s voice swirled in his head.  
  


‘I made a vow as well.  
I promised them that you would live.  
Live, Master Bruce, not just exist.  
Not just become a weapon no matter how noble your cause.’ 

The remembered anguish on Alfred’s face swam into his vision.

 

Rubbing at his forehead, Bruce gestured at the duffle placed prominently in a nearby wing back chair.  
The BatSuit and tools were already downstairs in the Cave.  
Why were all these strange things crowding his thoughts?  
Why now?

 

Clark retrieved his cape from the pocket he had seen it placed in.  
Unfolding it carefully, he attached it to his shoulders and turned back to Bruce.  
The handsome face wasn’t looking at Clark, but scowling heavily.  
Elegant brows furrowed and the eyes flashed with hidden emotion.  
  


Clark braced himself.  
He knew it was coming, and he would take his lumps as Pa had taught him on the farm, but he was also going to fight for the feelings he had for this man.  
Clark knew that if he was to have any chance, he couldn’t show any weakness in front of the Bat.

 

Bruce recognised the look on Clark’s face that he could see in his peripheral vision.  
The Super was preparing for battle.  
Between all the confusion in his mind, the strange sensations crashing through his subconsciousness, the unusual reactions of his body, he wasn’t willing to go head to head with Clark.  
Yet.

 

They were both stubborn men.

 

“Just leave Clark, I have work to do” Bruce spoke in a low non confrontational tone.  
Clark thought he sounded tired.  
  


“I want to help” Clark asserted.  
  


Bruce rubbed at his forehead and closed his eyes briefly, before they snapped open.“You can’t” was all he said.  
  


Knowing that groundwork was the only way to get the operation back on track, the brightly clad hero would stick out like a sore thumb.  
No, Bruce thought, this needed the touch of a certain matchstick chewing, gaudily dressed lowlife.  
Certainly not one of Clark’s areas of expertise.  
  


“But Bruce….” Clark began.  
  


Bruce cut him off abruptly.  
“Clark, get out of my house, get out of my city” he growled.  
“Before I cut you out of my life completely.”  
  


Bruce didn’t show the surprise he felt at that last sentence.  
He hadn’t meant to say that!  
Where was all this shit coming from?  
Frustration built inside in waves, further pushing the Gothamite out of his comfort zone.

 

Clark paled.  
He had expected it.  
Tried to prepare for it.  
It still cut him deep.  
In the back of his mind, he had a slowly rising sense of strong emotion.  
As much as he could see Bruce was getting worked up, he couldn’t allow Bruce to just kick him out of his life.  
There was nothing, Nothing, he wasn’t willing to do for this man.  
  


“Bruce, you have to let me help.  
I know I made a mess of things” Clark spread his hands as he spoke.  
  


Bruce snorted.  
  


Clark soldiered on.“Please?  
It’s not just the botched mission.” and he visibly flinched at his own words, but pressed ahead anyway.  
“I want to be with you Bruce.  
I don’t know how long I’ve felt this way.  
It seems like forever, and yesterday, at the same time.”

 

Bruce could hear the plaintive tone in Clark’s voice.  
Clark wanted to be with him?  
What the Hell was he talking about?  
A few moments of stress relief aside, abetted by a system full of drugs, didn’t mean there could or would ever be more.  
No, Bruce had a Mission.  
It was his priority.  
Nothing came before that.  
  


“Clark, this is fucked up” he spoke viciously now.  
“You have made my life much more difficult than it needs to be.  
Not only setting back plans that had been in motion for months, but causing injury that could hinder my function.  
I don’t have time for unnecessary injuries Clark”  
Bruce strode across the room and poked Clark in the chest, over his red and yellow symbol of hope.  
  


“Why do you think I take precautions?  
Why do I strategise?  
All the contingencies I put in place are to avoid any potential situation or circumstances that will delay justice being served on the filth of Gotham’s streets.  
However, they are also to avoid putting me out of commission for any prolonged period of time.  
I have spent years, Years Clark, becoming the best at what I do.  
Then you come along like an overgrown puppy dog and ruin everything.” he stepped away only to whirl back with a full BatGlare™ on his face.  
  


“You have brought this on yourself Clark.  
If you had listened to instructions, given not only by myself but as briefed by Victor, this could have been avoided” Bruce started to raise his voice.

 

Clark couldn’t speak.  
For all his confidence in fighting for this thing between himself and Bruce, he had nothing.  
Bruce was right.

 

“I warned you, when you held me against my will in the parlour.  
I told you there would be consequences Clark.  
These are the consequences.” Bruce started counting points off on his fingers.

 

“One, you will leave Gotham."  
  


"Two, you will not return unless you are called.  
There will be no late night calls or unexpected visits."  
  


"Three, you will not participate in the weapons shipment take down, under ANY circumstances."  
  


"Four, you will not contact me at all.  
If I need to speak with you about anything, I will contact you."  
  


"Five, you will not touch me unless invited to do so, or under the guise of our secret identities.  
A handshake is acceptable, but that is all."  
  


"Six, you will get the Hell out of my sight right now and not speak another word.  
The longer you linger, the more pissed I will get, and there will be harsher consequences.  
You have 30 seconds.” and Batman crossed his arms, fury writ all over his face.

 

Clark stumbled back a few paces.

 

“Oh my” said a voice from just outside the doorway.

 

Clark turned his head to see Alfred standing there.  
As soon as Bruce swivelled around to look at the butler, Clark used his super speed to carefully move around Alfred, down the hallway and out the front door.  
  


He didn’t pay attention to where he was going, tears streamed down his face and he sobbed great heaving gasps of air.  
The landscape blurred through watery eyes.  
  


Minutes later, he found himself outside the house at the farm.  
The door opened and Martha stepped onto the porch.  
“Clark?” she queried.  
  


Clark fell to his knees on the dirt and cried uncontrollably.  
His Ma came over and wrapped her arms around her son’s shoulders.  
Rocking him gently, she stroked his hair and made soothing shushing noises but Clark didn’t stop, not for a long time.

 

“Master Bruce” Alfred spoke cautiously while smoothing down his ruffled hair from Superman’s departure.  
  


Bruce turned away from the butler and looked once more at the portrait of his parents.  
The anger melted away and he felt a bone crushing sadness take hold.  
  


“How much did you hear Alfred” he gruffed.  
  


“I believe I caught the end of number three” the gentlemen’s gentleman stated disapprovingly.  
  


Bruce raised an eyebrow at his trusted confidante.  
“You don’t agree” he stated flatly.  
  


“I do not Master Bruce.  
You did not see that man worry for you, the guilt he suffered for your injuries, the pain he felt.  
I did and I can assure you that you have only made the situation worse for the pair of you, you stubborn boy” Alfred remonstrated.  
  


Bruce walked over to the secret entrance to the Cave, refusing to look at one who had also so recently betrayed him.  
  


“It had to be done Alfred.  
He didn’t listen to instructions.  
He instigated an unwarranted rescue that has put Batman off the streets for a few days at least.  
I can’t afford this sort of disruption, and I won’t allow it.” the deep bass firm in it’s conviction.  
  


“So what will you do?” Alfred asked.  
  


“Once I have collected the information from the other Leaguers, and ejected most of them from Gotham, the scum of the city will be graced by a visit from Malone.” the Bat responded coldly.  
  


“I see” was all Alfred said.  
  


With that, Bruce pushed away all other considerations, distractions, and damned feelings, and began to focus on the tasks at hand with laser like precision.  
He stepped towards the Cave without a backwards glance to the man who had raised him as a son.

 

He didn’t need any of them, he coldly determined.He would concentrate on the Mission, and only the Mission, from here on out.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short time has passed.
> 
> The Bat remains focussed.
> 
> Superman is not himself.
> 
> Shayera returns.
> 
> The weapons shipment arrives.
> 
> What is the special cargo?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens.
> 
> I've left it deliberately ambiguous.
> 
> A cookie for whoever guesses the assassin ;)
> 
>  
> 
> I had a chapter, written weeks ago that I thought I wasn't going to use.  
> Well, I am happy to say, I did manage to use a good portion of it.
> 
> Some may have seen it on Tumblr.
> 
> I'm just happy I got to use some of it after all.
> 
>  
> 
> As always, enjoy!

*~*~*~*~*

Chapter 20

Guns, Guns, Guns and Kryptonite Bullets.

*~*~*~*~*

 

Smashing his hand against the nearby wall, the man was frustrated, and really pissed off.  
Damn Batman for disrupting his business.  
This was going to cost Intergang a lot of money, and reputation.  
Looking at the reinforced briefcase still handcuffed to his other hand, he was glad to have not lost it in the scuffle, at least it wasn’t a total disaster.  
The gun shipment may be lost, but the special delivery was still on track.  
Rubbing at his forehead, he began to think about how to recover from the setback of the other losses.  
The phone began to ring.  
Taking a deep breath, the man answered.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Shayera landed the Javelin the the Watchtower hanger with ease.  
Shutting down the systems, she was pleased to be back.  
It had only been 5, maybe 6 Terran days?  
  


When the Lantern Corps had requested her assistance with a possible Gordanian invasion in a nearby sector, her Thanagarian blood boiled with old hatred.

Upon arrival in the sector, she met up with the local Lantern and they had proceeded to investigate the disturbance around a rural farming planet.  
As it turned out, it wasn’t the Gordanians, but that didn’t stop her from helping the Lantern stop a potential enslavement of the population.  
  


It had been a good fight.  
Naturally, the perpetrators had been repulsed, the leaders arrested, and sent to Oa for trial.  
Three long days it took for the trial.  
Shayera had been required to give statements and corroborate witness accounts.  
That was when she discovered that there were many Lanterns that enjoyed a drink or two after duty was done.  
There had only been the one, no two she reminded herself, bar fights.  
Nothing too serious, more just a letting off of steam.  
Yes, she smirked to herself, the trip had indeed provided some good moments.  
Gathering her bag, and the souvenirs she had brought back for the gang, she left the Javelin with a smile on her face.  
It was good to be home.

………….

It wasn’t good to be home!  
After dumping her things in her quarters, Shayera was in the Watchtower cafeteria listening to the other members catch her up on recent events.  
5 days!  
She had only been gone 5 days, and apparently all Hell had broken loose.  
  


J’onn looked pale.

Cyborg seemed to be randomly emitting sparks.

Diana seemed broody?  
What was with that?  
Batman had the patent on broody.

Hal was just Hal, thankfully he never seemed to change.

Flash was unusually quiet.  
This had Shayera concerned.  
The Central City speedster was always bright, and full of laughter.  
This was the first time she had seen Barry look downright depressed.

Arthur was back in Atlantis, ‘probably avoiding this mess’ Shayera thought.  
She wouldn’t mind another space mission if this kept up.

Dinah and Oliver were quiet mostly, looking around corners and watching the exits, as if they expected an attack at any moment.  
Then they would look at each other and giggle.  
She would have to find out what that was about.

And Superman, well he wasn’t aboard the WatchTower.  
Apparently he was persona non gratis.  
  


She had to admit she was having a little difficulty following the course of events.  
As soon as one person spoke, they were interrupted.  
Arguments and talking over each other exploded around her.  
  


Apparently something had happened that resulted in nearly every Leaguer breaking Mr No-Metas-In-My-City rule to stay out of Gotham.  
  


Batman had been investigating an Intergang case, and had been working with a small taskforce.  
Shayera had to ask if he did it willingly.  
It was well known the man preferred to work alone in his territory.  
  


Shayera easily agreed with the opinion that Intergang was asking for trouble by choosing Gotham as an arrival port for a large weapons shipment.  
  


Dinah had stated loudly that it wasn't the Size of the shipment that was Important in the long run.  
  


Using Batman’s city was a stupid choice for any criminal undertakings.  
The Bat was fiercely protective, and came down hard on any insane enough to try.

When a source had provided valuable intel, the Dark Knight had proceeded to investigate the accuracy of the data before he planned to unleash his BatWrath upon the terrorist gang.  
  


Due to Circumstances™, Batman had deliberately allowed himself to be caught by the perps.  
As usual, he had several contingencies planned for just such an eventuality.  
Again, none of this was new or shocking to the Thanagarian.

 

Several points everyone could agree upon were:  
\- Intergang were planning on bringing in some nasty high powered weapons.  
\- Batman had allowed himself to be captured as part of information gathering.  
\- The team was briefed, all in accordance with procedure.  
\- The sting operation had failed.  
\- Batman was injured.  
\- Superman was alive.  
  


The reports conflicted as to why the operation had failed.  
General consensus seemed to be Superman was the reason the Bat was denied confirmation of vital details, and also the reason this shitfight was going down at all.  
  


Superman, apparently, was also the cause for Batman being injured, and the reason for the dark, broody one's current BatSulk™.  
  


After asking if mind control had been involved, again, this last part had the Thanagarian lifting her eyebrows in query.  
Superman caused Batman grievous bodily harm?  
The Clark she knew was a giant gushy ball of happiness and sunshine inside.  
  


Hal explained that the only reason Superman wasn’t wearing Kryptonite gum boots at the bottom of Gotham Harbour was due to the fact that Batman is injured.  
  


Diana blushed when Oliver went on to tell the story of Wonder Woman punching Superman.  
More than once.  
When Shayera had questioned this, Victor had shown her footage he had recorded of the incident on the rooftop.  
Shayera was more intrigued than ever.  
  


However, if Batman had not been injured, there was some question about whether Diana would have punched and slapped Superman at all, or why Hal insisted Batman was going to shove kryptonite somewhere painful to Man of Steel.  
Shayera winced, she knew Batman was perfectly capable of shoving kryptonite into the Super, location wasn't an issue.  
  


If the Big Blue Clod, as the general consensus was calling him, had minded his own business, he wouldn't be in the current dilemma of having Batman out for his blood.  
  


Also, if the Big Blue Clod had minded his own business, Batman would be on his way to dropping Bat Guano on some gun smugglers from a great height because he would have a target.  
The Bat’s anger seemed to be focussed on Superman because of a rescue attempt.  
  


When Shayera asked about the rescue, the room dissolved into chaos.  
Putting the pieces together slowly, Shayera was shocked to learn that, although Batman had ordered Superman to stand down, the Kryptonian had insisted on saving Bats from capture.  
  


Understanding dawned on why Batman was so pissed.  
Apparently, the Boy Scout had ruined the Plan for getting the information Batman needed.  
  


Plus there was also a link to a direct threat to the Justice League members themselves, by Intergang, that Batman had absolutely no data on.  
No wonder he was in a mood.  
  


Shayera had heard Batman rib Superman about his name and small town heritage hundreds of times before, but apparently over the last few days, he had descended to a whole new level.  
  


Hal’s opinion was that SuperFuckWit™ seemed to be the Dark Knight's favourite, but she had also heard 'Alien Cow Tipper’, 'Kryptonite For Brains' and 'SuperTwit’. 

Most inexplicably was ‘Keep it in your Pants Kent' mentioned so quietly by Oliver as he passed her on his way to the beverage dispenser, that Shayera only thought she heard it.  
  


Looking over at J’onn, he just seemed to shake his head sadly and shrink in on himself.  
Monitor Duty was scheduled for the next evening, and she was taking over the shift from Superman.  
Shayera was very interested to talk to Superman at the handover.  
Batman wasn’t due for Monitor Duty for another week.  
She racked her brain to think of an excuse to talk to Batman before then.

 

“Well” Shayera called when there was finally a lull in the conversation.“Who wants to hear about my trip?  
And I brought souvenirs for everyone”.  
  


That seemed to calm the group and shut them up.  
Shayera was pleased, if for poor J’onn’s sake if no one else.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Batman watched from the shadows as Gordon and his team arrived on scene.  
  


The bust was good, not great because the Intergang asshole, the one that drugged him at the IceBurg Lounge, had escaped with some cargo that seemed important.  
Important enough for the rest of the shipment to be left behind.  
  


No one would get away with bringing guns and weaponry into Gotham.  
A fist clenched at the thought of armour piercing rounds on the streets.  
Gathering the intelligence on this shipment had taken up a lot of valuable time over the past few months.  
  


Then there was the hiccup with Superman.  
Hiccup, Bruce snorted to himself.  
That was a gigantic understatement.  
It was a fuck up of epic proportions.  
The anger that rose inside him every time he thought of the situation started a slow burn.  
Pushing aside the rising conflict inside him whenever he thought of the blue clad hero, he refocussed his attention back through his binoculars.  
  


When the shipment had arrived early, his hand had been forced.  
Thankfully Arthur had been able to track down the information before the shipment actually landed.  
Reminding himself to thank the Atlantean later, he went back over the facts in his mind.  
  


Little information had been 'coerced' from the smugglers but there was one lead on who was behind the scenes, providing finance and hiring the muscle, his interrogations resulted in one word.  
Luthor.  
It appeared as if Luthor had engaged Intergang for a specific shipment, this specific shipment.  
  


There was nothing more to be done tonight.  
The taskforce arrived and began loading the criminal scum into the van.  
All the evidence was stacked near the bound thugs.  
Batman noted that the evidence wasn’t touched until it had been clearly photographed, and recorded in the evidence files.  
At least there were some people capable of doing their jobs.  
Unlike that Big Blue Clod.  
Pushing the thoughts aside, again, he grappled away silently.  
  


Frustration poured off him as he made his way back to his vehicle, then back to the Cave.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

“Yes, I have your special order Mister Luthor” the man reassured into the phone.  
“No, I have checked for tracking devices and ensured I wasn’t followed”  
The man wanted to just get the delivery over with.  
Lex Luthor was a micromanaging pain in his ass.  
  


However, the money was more important than ever.  
“Yes, I can meet your contact at the agreed time and location. I foresee no problems….” he was cut off abruptly.  
  


“That was a different situation Mister Luthor, no one expected Superman to come after the Bat” he explained when Luthor stopped ranting long enough for him to get a word in edgewise.  
  


Holding the phone away from his ear, he winced at the volume of the incensed man on the other end.  
Luthor had began shouting again.  
While it was true what Luthor was saying, he didn’t want or need to be reminded of his other recent failure.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Seated at his computer array, Bruce set search parameters to detect when new weapons might be ordered.  
It would take time.  
Pushing away abruptly and making his way to the changing area, he stripped the suit efficiently, and stepped under the spray of the shower.  
  


Thoughts drifted through his mind as he processed the information of the case.  
Intergang and Luthor dominated, which meant more trouble for Gotham.  
  


Knowing he would need to bring the League in again didn't reassure him.  
This was trouble.  
Luthor's well known hatred of Superman put the Boy Scout at risk.  
  


The thoughts of Clark crowded in on him again.  
Batman was good at avoiding emotions, however his mind seemed to be overflowing with images of the red caped wonder.  
Every time he experienced these ‘feelings’ he felt a bone deep ache.  
Taking some meditative breaths, he forced his thoughts back to the case at hand.  
  


The implications from Penguin indicated that traps were being set for the entire League, not just Superman.  
This affected everyone.  
Knowing he would need to update Cyborg on the case, he began to churn information through his consciousness.  
Facts versus Educated Guesses.  
Potential repercussions sprang forth, hazy conclusions at best, however countermeasures would be needed to neutralise any perceived threats.  
  


Shutting off the shower viciously, he simply stood for a moment.  
  


Batman was aware of the weaknesses of each member of the Justice League, he’d researched them himself.  
  


As plans and tactical options were weighed up, that recurring pressure began to throb behind his eyes.  
The pulsing pain had settled into something else, a constant distraction, preventing much needed sleep and pulling at his concentration.  
  


It seemed the only time the symptoms changed, or became something other than annoying, was when he was in close proximity to the Kryptonian.  
  


Bruce became flustered when he remembered the results of that proximity, but again had to put it aside as he quickly towelled off and dressed in loose sweats.  
Returning to the console of his computer, he began to type furiously.  
  


Trying to account for the most probable scenarios, he formulated potential risks, and outcomes, but more information was required.  
  


Leaning back in his chair, he closed his eyes, used his breathing exercises to clear his mind, to try and get this strange ache in his head under control.  
  


One thing kept coming back to him.  
  


Batman hadn't resolved the Superman issue yet either.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

“I didn’t expect to be meeting you” the man with the briefcase stated.

 

Broad, leather clad shoulders lifted.  
“What can you do?  
We just do what we’re paid to do, go where the customer wants, complete the job and get lots of cash.” the masked man replied, his one red lense reflecting the single light bulb from above.

 

“True. Do you have the payment?” the first man asked.

 

“Do you have the order?” the implication that there had been another fuckup obvious.

 

“It’s right here.” he snorted, as he unlocked the cuff around his wrist.  
Placing the case on the nearby wooden crate, the combination was entered and the brief case unlocked.

 

The masked man looked on curiously, before reaching in to extract a special bullet.  
Only two were nestled inside the insulated and protected case.  
Rolling the round between his fingers, he studied it closely.  
Hand made, but done with skill.  
The weight in his hand indicated some allowances would be required for a successful shot.  
Although he never needed a second attempt at his target, the second bullet was backup for the first.  
The tip was a dull colour, but that would change in proximity to a certain hero, and it would glow.  
Gripping the bullet in his hand tightly, he closed his eyes and felt how the projectile would fly from his weaponry, powerfully leaping from the muzzle.  
Nodding to himself, he was reassured that he could complete the task set.

 

The first man tapped his foot impatiently.  
“The money?” he asked.

 

An annoyed smirk crossed the assassins face.  
Lifting his own briefcase onto the wooden surface, he flicked the catches open.  
“Right here” he said, before pulling a gun from the case and firing once.  
  


The expendable Intergang courier went down, dead before he hit the ground.  
  


The masked man holstered his handgun from where he had removed it minutes before the meeting.  
Sending a text message off to his client, he returned the special bullet to it’s companion in the reinforced case before snapping the lid closed.  
  


Stepping over the dead man, case in hand, he left the vicinity without a trace.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Clark sat alone in his apartment.  
The lights were off and only the reflected streetlights broke the darkness of his living room.  
‘Too bad it can’t ward the darkness in my heart’ the Man of Steel thought.  
  


Clark had been truly miserable.  
Four days had passed since Batman evicted him from the Manor and Gotham.  
No sign of the Dark Knight was seen at the Watchtower by the farmer’s son.  
As if by magic, or the intervention of a black clad vigilante, the Monitor Duty shifts had moved slightly and Superman hadn’t even glimpsed the ebony cape disappearing around corners.  
Listening for that heartbeat he knew so well, Batman had avoided even being on the Watchtower when Clark had a shift.  
  


Despondently running a hand through his hair, he focussed his hearing once more.  
The steady rhythm in the direction of Gotham temporarily reassured him, but made his heart lurch in his chest.  
  


As if an elastic band stretched between the two men, Clark felt a strong pull, like a deep ache inside.  
Nothing would have made him happier than to go zooming off to find Bruce.  
Dropping his head into his hands once more, he heaved a single sob before silent tears tracked down his face.

 

The strongest man on the planet was suffering from a broken heart.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Bruce was finishing up his report when Alfred arrived in the cave with a hot drink and post patrol snack.  
Looking at the butler, the man who had been a constant by his side all these years, their stiff silence gave him pause.  
Admittedly, he had felt betrayed by the man who helped raise him after his parent’s deaths.  
The strain between the two had stretched for the intervening days since the incident.  
Neither willing to broach the subject with the other.  
  


“Thankyou Alfred” Bruce said as the silver tray was deposited nearby.

 

“Will there be anything else Sir?” Alfred asked his question without a hint of what was going on in his mind.  
  


The stubborn boy had done little else but work on his case, only attending Wayne Enterprises meetings when necessary.  
Lucius Fox was generally more than happy to step in when Master Bruce was consumed by The Other Job, however there were occasions when Master Bruce’s attendance was required.  
  


Alfred was truly saddened by the recent events that had unfolded.  
While he agreed that forcing the Bat to take the second antidote was a foolish move, they both knew full well that there was nothing else for it.  
The drugs that were detected in the blood sample could have had consequences beyond immediate incapacitation.  
  


This was not the first time Alfred had endured his ward’s ire.  
Growing up, the clever detective emerging from behind solemn eyes and small tight smiles, the boy had butted heads with Alfred on many occasions.  
  


When Master Bruce had disappeared for those years, ‘training’ as it was referred to, Alfred had worried after the welfare of his charge constantly.  
The relief upon Master Wayne’s return had mended any previous disagreements between the two.  
It wasn’t until the billionaire had shared his plans to save Gotham that they had their first real hum dinger of an argument.  
Devolving into a shouting match that lasted for days, Alfred had conceded in the end.  
As much as their relationship was unusual, with no outward signs of affection, they needed each other.  
  


Alfred paused, perhaps if he had shown the boy more affection, Master Bruce wouldn’t cut himself off from emotions and feelings so readily.  
No, it would do no good to dwell on the past.  
What they did need was to get past the current roadblock between them.  
Neither would benefit from this continued distance, filled with enough tension to slice with a butter knife.  
  


Alfred knew he would think of a way to get through to the boy, it was just a matter of time and opportunity.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

The next day.

 

Superman was on Monitor Duty when Shayera entered the surveillance room.  
The huge monitors were showing different images from around the world, along with news feeds and a rotating camera views from various sources.  
  


“Kal” Shayera said in greeting.

 

“Hi Shayera, welcome back” Superman replied “Your shift doesn’t start for another half an hour”

 

“I brought back souvenirs for everyone.  
I wanted to bring you yours.” she smirked.  
Shayera knew it was the perfect excuse to spend some private time with the blue clad hero.  
She even had the mentioned gift with her.  
Perfect.  
  


“Here” she held out a small wrapped parcel.  
“I got it on Oa, while the trials were finishing up.

 

Clark looked at the winged red head and smiled.  
It wasn’t his usual sunshine smile, they didn’t fit right on his face these days, but he was appreciative of the Thanagarian’s thoughtfulness.  
  


Inside the pretty little box was a small crystal.  
Clark furrowed his brow for a moment, before lifting it from it’s nest.  
His eyes flew open in shock.  
“This… this is Kryptonian”  
Whirling to look at Shayera, he was overcome with emotion.  
“Shayera, it’s a music crystal” he breathed.

 

Shayera was pleased to see the dim smile brighten.  
It wasn’t at full Superman wattage, but it was better than the sad smile he had greeted her with.

 

“Thankyou” Clark said, standing and engulfing Shayera in his arms.  
Shayera cuddled the naturally warmer Super, before stepping back to see moisture forming in his eyes.  
  


“Hey” she said, a little concerned.  
She had bought the gift to bring happiness, but Clark looked like he was going to burst into tears.  
“If I knew it was going to upset you, I wouldn’t have brought it back at all.”

 

“No, Shayera, it’s not that” he sat back in his chair heavily.

 

Shayera couldn’t stop herself.  
“What’s going on Kal?”

 

“Oh you know, the usual” Clark tried to deflect.

 

“No, I don’t know.  
Come on, you know you can talk to me.  
What’s happened?” Shayera said softly.

 

“Not about this, I’m sorry” Clark sounded so despondent that it shocked the hardened warrior.

 

“Is it about Batman?” Shayera pushed.  
She didn’t like to see the normally happy face looking so sad.

 

Clark whipped his head up, eyes wide.  
"What do you mean?” he asked.

 

“Well, I’ve heard about what happened with Batman’s case in Gotham.  
It sounds like a very confusing story though, I admit.  
I’m under the impression that he’s pretty upset with you right now” the winged woman stated.

 

Clark laughed hollowly.  
“That’s an understatement”

 

“Well, why don’t you tell me what happened and maybe I can help.  
A fresh perspective could be just what you need to see a resolution.” the logic of the woman was undeniable.

 

“Thanks Shayera, but this is something I have to sort out on my own.” sadness clouded the bright blue eyes, and Clark looked away.

 

Shayera left it at that.  
She wasn't ready to push for more.  
However, she resolved to herself, if the situation didn't improve, she wasn't adverse to digging harder.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Bruce was upstairs in his bedroom.  
Looking at the suitcase Alfred had started packing, he sighed heavily.  
Now was not really the time to be heading out of Gotham for a charity gig.  
Although he was pleased he had managed to stop the weapons from entering into Gotham’s streets, there was an underlying feeling of unfinished business.  
Knowing that he couldn’t get out of this, he ran his hands over his face in frustration.

 

Alfred stepped into the room with the packed toiletries kit.  
Seeing the look on his young charge’s face, he softened the look on his face and stepped forward.  
“Master Bruce?” he queried.

 

Bruce startled.  
Caught in his own thoughts, he wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings.  
“It’s fine Alfred” he said wearily.  
  


Alfred just looked at him disbelievingly.  
  


Bruce wanted things to go back to a week ago, before all this debacle with Clark, before he had been drugged, injured and …. whatever this other thing was that was happening to him.  
Feeling more tired than he had since the last alien invasion, he looked into the elderly eyes that watched him with concern.  
  


Knowing it was time to put their differences aside, Bruce spoke  
“Alfred, I just want to put it all behind me. Can we do that?”

 

“Of course Master Bruce” the butler replied.  
  


Alfred reached an arm over to wrap the boy’s shoulder.  
“I’m aways here for you, you know that.  
As for what happened in the parlour…” 

 

“I’m not concerned about Alfred.  
We’ve danced to that tune before.  
No, it’s all this other….” Bruce’s arm waved vaguely in the air as he searched for the word he wanted to say.  
“Nonsense” Bruce couldn’t help the twitch as the word left his lips.

 

“My boy, while I am pleased that you will not hold a grudge for the incident, the nonsense you are referring to is anything but” the elderly butler chided gently.

 

Bruce huffed.

 

“You know I’m right Master Bruce.  
This struggle you are experiencing are what is commonly referred to as ‘emotions’.  
Your reactions while under the influence clearly show that you have them, as much as you wish to deny it.” the clever Englishman stated.

 

Bruce looked away.  
He didn’t have time for this.  
The Bat didn’t do feelings, and everyone knew it.  
He had spent a long time cultivating that viewpoint.  
No, it was his internal conflict, the sense that something external had connected with him, that was what he was fighting.  
  


Bruce had no problems having sex.  
Admitting that he had enjoyed his interludes with Clark wasn’t an issue.  
It was a deeper sense of loss that he had been pushing away in recent days that had shaken his resolve.

 

Alfred could see the confusion cross the aristocratic features.  
“Denial is more than the name of a river in Egypt Master Bruce” the man said cheekily.

 

Bruce looked back at his trusted friend.  
“Did you really just say that Alfred?” with an exaggerated expression of shock on his face.

 

Alfred smirked and continued packing the suitcase.

 

Bruce once more avoided dealing with the underlying issue, and started teasing his father figure with terrible puns.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Bat really just wants to get it over with.
> 
> Superman gets the cold shoulder.
> 
> Oliver is a good wingman.
> 
> Dinah wants to play matchmaker.
> 
> Diana decides to talk to Bruce, whether the Bat wants to or not.
> 
> *~*~*~*~*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The start of the Charity Gala Interlude, or as I have been referring to it as, the Jealous Clark Arc.
> 
> How will Bruce and Diana’s date fare?
> 
> What will happen when Clark see’s them together?
> 
> Featuring:  
> Vapid Playboy, In Denial, Snarky, Petty Brucie  
> Determined in Love Diana  
> Confused Clark  
> Devilish Dinah  
> Cheeky Oliver  
> Guest appearances by Victor and Barry.  
> Shayera's souvenirs come into play.
> 
> The Bat still doesn’t understand all these ‘emotions’ things that everyone keeps talking about.
> 
> All of this, and more, coming over the next few chapters.
> 
>  
> 
> Some shorter chapters that I wrote much earlier on, and finally get to share with you all.
> 
>  
> 
> As always, enjoy!
> 
> *~*~*~*~*

*~*~*~*~*

 

Chapter 21

Jealous Clark Arc

 

Part 1

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Bruce unbuckled after the private jet taxied to a gentle stop.

There is rumbling from the belly of the plane as the cargo bay is opened and his luggage is unloaded.

He goes forward to thank his pilots and attendant before making his way to the door.

 

After a few moments, the door is disarmed and opened.

Blinking against the glare of the sun, he can see 2 figures approach the stairs that now rest against the side of the sleek black plane.

Reaching into his jacket, he gets out his designer sunglasses and puts them on"

 

Hearing Oliver call out, he waved in their general direction before shifting his focus to the airport staff unloading his bags.

He is here as Bruce Wayne, so he was travelling without the uniform, that didn't mean he hadn't brought some tools.

As Bruce reached the tarmac, he felt a clasp on his shoulder.

Oliver is grinning at him and Dinah is directing the baggage handler to place Bruce's pile of bags in to a nearby SUV.

"Oliver, so good to see you again" Bruce says warmly.

 

 

Oliver had known Brucie before he met the Batman.

He still struggles to consolidate the two in his minds eye.

"Good flight?" He asks.

 

 

Bruce nods before Dinah swoops in for a hug.

"Glad you could join us"

She is excited to see Bruce on a date with Diana.

"When does Diana arrive?"

 

 

"Not until late unfortunately.

She has duties to attend first" Bruce smirks.

He is well aware of Diana's attraction, and that Dinah was cheering for her friend.

 

Oliver grins at both of them.

"We've managed to avoid the paparazzi, however" he motions to a nearby building where a figure can be seen coming towards them.

Bruce groans as he recognises the bulky suit of Clark Kent.

 

"Oliver" he growls.

 

The blonde archer looks at his two companions who are clearly scowling at him now.

"What?" He spreads his arms in a gesture of helplessness.

"Clark has been sent to cover events for the Daily Planet "

 

"You" Dinah mutters as she punches him in the arm.

 

Oliver knows that Dinah is hoping to get Bruce and Diana together, but Oliver has also seen something between Clark and Bruce that he recognises as special.

Although, he's not sure what exactly is happening, he's all for continuing development of the relationship between the Bat and the Man of Steel.

He’s openly encouraging Clark at every opportunity.

 

Part of him is cheering for Clark to tease Dinah, the other part of him thinks the Super is a good match for the Dark Knight.

They balance each other out.

Light and dark.

Yin and Yang.

 

Either way, it's all in good fun.

 

 

Clark has to hold back from super speeding over to Bruce.

His heart rate has ratcheted up and fluttered in his chest at the sight of the gorgeous billionaire.

The broad shoulders draped in an expensive suit, perfectly styled hair, Clark’s mouth goes dry.

Admittedly, he tried to avoid the socialite section of reporting the news.

Oliver had convinced him, and Clark really wanted to see Bruce again, even from a distance.

Then the thought of seeing Bruce with someone else on his arm just made him feel nauseous.

Clark remembered Bruce was attending the Gala with Diana, as his date.

Swallowing down the jealous green monster that was raising it’s head, he resolved to be professional.

 

"Mr Wayne" he huffed out as he approached the group.

"Mr Queen, Miss Lance" he rushes to include the pair.

 

Oliver gives his hand a firm shake, and he kisses Dinah on the cheek.

As he turns to Bruce, he discovers the man has silently made his way over to the vehicle and is checking his luggage is secure.

Clark's looks back to Oliver, who has raised an eyebrow in query.

Pushing away the disappointment he feels, he shrugged his shoulders and joins the pair walking to the car.

 

"Anything for the press Mr Queen?" He asks in his journalists disguise.

 

 

Oliver laughs loudly, and shakes his head at the tension between the two men.

"Not yet Clark, maybe at the Football later." Oliver has an idea.

"Mr Wayne and I will be in attendance.

Brucie here will be supporting Gotham, while I will be backing the home team" Oliver nudges Bruce but the Gothamite doesn't look up from what he's doing.

 

Oliver winks at Clark, before continuing in a loud brash voice

"We have box seats for the game.

You should join us Mr Kent "

 

Clark blushes.

 

Bruce walks past Oliver to open the door of the SUV, glaring daggers at Oliver as he passes.

"Do as you like Oliver" he growls before getting in and slamming the door.

Dinah just punches Oliver again, and goes to sit with Bruce from the other side.

 

"Oliver, you shouldn't have done that" Clark says quietly.

 

Oliver looks at his fellow hero.

"Why not?" He asks.

"Can't afford to knock back good press."

"We have to find time to talk about Intergang's movements, amongst other things.” he adds quietly.

 

 

"Has there been activity in your city Ollie?" Clark asks, refusing to acknowledge the other things Oliver is referring to.

 

Oliver nods and puts his finger to his lips.

"Not here."

In a normal voice, he says

“Do you need a lift?"

 

Clark knows Bruce is listening while he makes small talk with Dinah.

He can practically hear the eye roll.

 

"Thanks Ollie, but there are a few more arrivals I have to cover for the paper" Clark smiles weakly.

 

"Suit yourself.

We'll see you later I hope" Oliver doesn't wait for an answer, he climbs in behind the wheel and starts the engine.

He gives a jaunty salute as he guns it out of the airport.

 

Clark sighs before returning to the terminal building.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Bruce is sitting in the back with Dinah.

Glaring at Oliver, who is watching in the rear view mirror, he can see the smirk on the Archer’s face.

Batman had made it very clear, to everyone, over the last few days that he was avoiding the Kryptonian.

Memories rushed to the surface again.

The kisses on the rooftop.

The bedroom in the Manor.

 

The pressure inside his skull had receded somewhat at Clark’s presence.

Now it pulsed, like waves lapping at the shoreline.

Bruce knew he had to get to the bottom of this sooner rather than later.

It needed to stop.

The pull behind his belly button thrummed lightly.

Subconsciously, he placed a hand over it and rubbed.

 

Dinah raised her eyebrow.

“Are you feeling alright?

You’re still carrying injuries”

 

Everyone went silent at the mention of the Super induced injuries the Bat had sustained.

 

After a few moments, Oliver’s voice carries from the front seat.

“Nice one Dinah.

Let’s remind Bruce why he has reason to be in a bad mood.”

 

Dinah scowled at Oliver.

“You’re the one that told Clark to cover the event for The Planet” she hissed. 

 

Bruce raised an eyebrow at Oliver’s reflected gaze.

“You told Clark?” he questioned.

 

Oliver looked back at the road.

“It’s good PR, and we know Clark.

He’ll give us a good write up.

This charity is deserving of all the support it can get” he mumbled.

 

 

Dinah snorted, leaning back into the plush leather seat, she crossed her arms.

She hadn’t had an opportunity to speak with Diana since she left the Manor that horrible morning.

Grilling Oliver had netted her nothing.

Whatever her boyfriend knew, he wasn’t saying.

 

 

Bruce looked at the pair.

In the back of his mind, he had a bomb he could drop on them whenever he needed it.

The Car Incident.

Holding back his biting comments, he sat back as well and stared out the window.

 

Clark was here.

Why did that make his heart beat faster?

Why were these mysterious symptoms somehow connected with the Kryptonian?

He wasn’t the World’s Greatest Detective for nothing, he would discover what was going on and put a stop to it.

There was no way he would let it continue.

He resolved to keep Clark at a distance.

As much as he had enjoyed their interludes, there would be no repeats.

 

He almost groaned out loud when he remembered he had to fend off Diana’s advances as well.

Just another thing he wasn’t looking forward to.

Brucie Wayne would just have to put the Amazonian off once and for all.

There was a reason he avoided relationships, and these complications were number one on the list.

Rubbing at his eyes tiredly, underneath his sunglasses, he could already feel the tension within him building.

 

Yes, he reaffirmed, he was going to put a stop to all this, once and for all.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Diana was staring into her closet.

As challenging as it had been, she had avoided Bruce, Kal and Dinah over the last 6 days.

She’d had a lot to think about.

 

Her heart had gone back and forth.

Thoughts would whirlwind around like a dervish, spinning and crackling.

Every time she remembered Bruce in Kal’s arms, she felt ill.

Remembering Bruce’s reactions to her arms frustrated her no end.

Seeing Bruce calm at Kal’s simple touch that morning at the Manor saddened her.

 

Her mind was telling her one thing, her heart another.

What she had decided was that she would talk with Bruce, and he would listen.

Then she would make him talk, and she would listen.

She pondered taking her lasso for a moment, then shook her head at the silliness of it all.

If Bruce couldn’t be honest with her by choice, then that was another thing to think long and hard about.

She wouldn’t force Bruce to tell her anything, but she could use her feminine charm to persuade him.

 

Diana grinned and reached for that one dress she knew seemed to take people’s breath away.

If there was one thing Dinah had taught her, it was how to use what she had to get what she wanted.

 

Gathering together the rest of her necessities in a bag, she got out her phone and sent Dinah a text.

Bruce’s plane would have landed, and Dinah could tell her what Bruce’s mood was like. 

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Clark trudged back to the airport terminal.

 

He wanted to curse Oliver out loud.

When he was approached by the Archer, he had expressed his doubts about covering the charity event.

Oliver had smirked then winked at him.

“Come on Clark, you can’t keep moping around like this.” Ollie had said.

 

Even after Clark advised it wasn’t a good idea, Oliver didn’t let it rest.

“I know you don’t want to talk about what I saw, and that’s fine.

I understand it’s a private matter.

But you’ve got to know I’m on your side in this?” and the blonde had looked earnest.

 

“You weren’t there Oliver, you didn’t hear what he said” Clark had been holding back tears ever since Bruce’s name was mentioned.

 

“If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine.

BUT

I’ll listen if you do.

I don’t judge, you know me Clark.

Maybe I act foolish at times, but I’m not stupid.

There is no way Bruce would have been all over you the way he was, if there wasn’t something there.

And the way he calmed at your touch?

That isn’t the subconscious reaction of someone that is rejecting you.

Don’t listen to his words Clark.

Listen to his heart.”

Oliver had spoken passionately and Clark had been drawn in.

 

Still, Clark continued to voice his hesitation.

“Ollie, I do appreciate what you’re saying” he had said.

“Really, I do!

But you weren’t there when he pushed me away.

He was…

He was cruel Oliver.”

 

Clark remembered Oliver’s sigh and when the archer had spoken again, he had been taken back by the empathy he had seen there.

“Clark, you know Bruce.

He’s been through a lot.

I doubt I would have come through his experiences with his passion to help his city, to bring Justice to those that deserve it, those who need it.

I started my journey to become Arrow from a place of darkness, filled with revenge and hatred.

But Bruce?

He’s filled with so much caring, but he doesn’t know that.

Bruce has never been one for admitting to himself that he feels deeply.

Hell, he probably has no idea what he’s feeling.

In fact…” Oliver suddenly warmed to the subject.

 

“Yeah, I bet he’s as confused by what’s going on as you are.

He will be ruthless on himself Clark.

That’s why he pushed you away so hard.

Bruce doesn’t allow himself to get involved.

Oh lord, I bet he’s been meditating himself to death over it”

The blonde archer had snorted openly.

 

“I bet the Bat doesn’t know what the Hell is going on.

I’ll put money on it Clark.

Can you imagine the look on his face as he tries to figure out what ‘feelings’ are and and….” the giggles had started burst out uncontrollably while Oliver spoke.

 

“The Bat tries to analyse them, but the BatComputer just spits out random numbers.

Alfred must be in stitches.

The confusion as Bruce scowls at the screen?”

Oliver had needed to hold his sides and exploded into laughter, tears practically running down his face.

 

Clark had felt a jumbled up mix of laughter, reassurance and sadness.

Although Oliver had been having a little too much fun at Bruce’s expense, Clark had vividly imagined the picture Oliver painted with his words.

It had been reassuring to hear that Ollie understood a little of Bruce’s underlying gruffness.

Clark had always worried that no one understood the Batman’s Mission, when Clark had always seen just how much Bruce cared and gave to Gotham.

 

However, Clark had been more than a little sad too.

Bruce had never allowed himself to have feelings.

Always cold and calculating, thinking too far ahead, not allowing others to get close.

 

Clark had just shaken his head at Oliver’s mirth, and given up fighting the idea.

Perry really hadn’t needed convincing.

Lois shared jealousy over the always good food and expensive champagne, and had asked him to sneak her back a bottle of the good stuff.

 

 

Clark felt lighter at remembering the conversation with the vigilante.

Oliver, he decided, had a good heart and a wicked sense of humour.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce tries to get into Brucie mode, and does too much thinking about 'emotions' that he's not happy about.
> 
> Clark doubts himself but tries to stay strong.
> 
> Diana hopes.
> 
> Oliver and Dinah are fun to be around.
> 
> Victor stops by.
> 
> There's shenanigans, football and bets to be made.  
> Oh, and mentions of 'Space Wine'.
> 
> *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am going to apologise up front about my poor American Football terminology.  
> I tried to research the game basics for accuracy, but my brain melted.
> 
> The same goes for 'tipping' customer service staff, I know nothing about who's who at motels in the US.  
> There's a bit of vague hand waving going on, you'll see what I mean.
> 
>  
> 
> I learnt a new phrase: horsing around.  
> I had to use it.  
> Maybe I didn't use it well, but I couldn't stop laughing when I read those words, horsing around.  
> I'm still, embarrassingly, laughing about it.
> 
>  
> 
> This is all leading up to the Gala, with a dash of angst, a pinch of pining, and a frustrated Bat.
> 
> *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Chapter 22

Jealous Clark Arc 

Part 2

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

The concierge of the prestigious hotel organises bell hops to take Bruce's bags from Oliver's SUV.  
Bruce manages to grab his personal bag before the rest was shuffled off to his suite.  
He tips the concierge, and moves into the plush foyer.  
Apparently the staff were waiting for Bruce's arrival.

The shift manager meets Bruce before he steps up to the reception desk.  
The man offers to take Bruce's bag but is politely refused.  
Bruce is not about to let someone take his tools out of his possession.  
Dinah, Oliver and Bruce are guided to the Executive elevator to smoothly ascend to the top floor.

As they are shown the penthouse suite, Oliver whistles.  
"Nothing but the best for you Brucie"

Bruce smirks, tipping the manager before seeing him out the door.  
Removing his jacket and tie, he releases the top 3 buttons on his shirt.  
Although he was still sore from his injuries, he took a deep breath and started to release the tension that had built when he first caught sight of Clark.

Oliver walks to the large glass sliding doors and folds them back into the wall.  
They have opened the entire wall up to the monstrous balcony.  
Stepping into the morning sun, they look around.  
It's a beautiful day with sunshine glancing off the water of the private pool, it's infinity edge makes it look like it's touching the sky.

There are several different seating areas so Dinah flops onto a big day bed.  
Bruce walks behind the wet bar and offers a drink to the couple.  
Bruce himself opens a bottle of spring water and knocks back half the bottle.

As he looks at Dinah and Oliver, his thoughts turn to Diana and Clark.  
Obviously Dinah is trying to set him up with Diana.  
He tries to hide the shudder that comes out of nowhere.  
His stomach knots up so he swallows down more water.

Oliver seems to be setting him up with Clark.  
This was a new development to Bruce.  
He wasn’t aware that Oliver knew anything of recent events between the two of them.  
It was doubtful that Clark had spoken to the blonde haired man.  
Something tickled the back of his mind.  
He began to automatically push it away when an image of the rooftop in Gotham sprang forward.  
Something about Oliver and Clark talking, and the feel of warm soft lips underneath his own.  
Bruce touched his lips in memory but dropped his hand away when he realised what he had done.  
Perhaps he would meditate on it later, but for now, he turned his mind back to the situation.

So, how had the archer come to his conclusion?  
Yes, the ruination of his plan in Gotham to obtain information had been the result of the Metropolis based hero.  
An image of the kiss on the rooftop, before he took the first antidote, floated past his vision.  
It made his heart twist inside his chest.  
But no, Oliver had come at the end of that.  
He hadn’t actually seen anything, of that Bruce was certain.  
Perhaps he was simply trying to tease Bruce, fishing for reactions.

Another familiar image flashed before his eyes.  
His own arms reaching for the Kryptonian’s neck.  
Controlling the blush that threatened to break, he coldly pushed the image away.  
Bruce had to admit there was an unusual, lingering tension between the Boy Scout and himself.  
It went beyond the justified anger.  
He had to mentally shake himself.

Bruce had reasons to be here, but why was Clark here all of a sudden?  
Clark never covered the gossip pages.  
What had Oliver said to the reporter to ensure his attendance?  
The Star City billionaire was up to something.  
Obviously, Oliver thought he was being sneaky.

Bruce couldn't help but wonder if a different kind of confrontation was brewing between himself and the Kansas raised hero.  
Did Clark want the Kryptonite back?  
He hadn’t thought back to the Metropolis incident since the Clark left the Manor.  
Pain flared in his chest when he remembered the harsh words spoken to Clark that day in the study.  
A combination of frustration, anger and lust shot through him.  
Crushing the plastic bottle in his hand, he growled at himself internally, he needed to get his shit together!

He was shaken from his musings by a loud splash.  
Oliver had ended up in the pool, helped by Dinah.  
She avoided a tackle hug from her partner, and had flipped him into the water.

Bruce laughed at the carefree pair.  
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dinah trying to sneak up on him.  
Pretending not to notice and sending a safely landed text message to Alfred, he slipped his watch off and emptied his pockets behind the bar.  
He had already decided the outcome of the pending shenanigans.  
His lips twitched as he tried not to smile.

 

Dinah only saw Bruce frowning at his phone.  
Although she doubted her ability to sneak up on the Bat, she relished the chance to hone her skills.  
And Bruce didn't seem to be paying attention to his surroundings as he moved towards a table that was conveniently placed between the bar and the pool.  
Glancing at Ollie, she gave a cheeky wink.

 

"So" Oliver began "what time is the game kicking off?"

 

Bruce didn't look up from his phone, but was well aware that he was being played.  
“One I think" he answered, sounding distracted.

"Time enough for a dip" said Dinah from right behind him.

Hands landed on his lower back.  
He dropped his phone on the table and whirled to grab her wrists.  
Dinah deflected, and moved to charge his shoulder.  
Bruce took a step back and gripped her elbow as she missed her mark.  
Continuing the momentum, he twirled Dinah until her back was towards the pool and his hand tightened against a nerve inside her arm.  
Dinah squealed, and dropped to take out his knee with a leg sweep.

Bruce was laughing as he easily avoided Dinah's long legs, coming up inside her guard to wrap a strong arm around her waist from behind.  
They spun in lazy circles, wrestling for a better hold.  
She wriggled in his grip, and in order to avoid her elbow in his midriff, he released Dinah and took two steps backwards.  
Just as his hand clamped down on her fast punch, which narrowly missed his face, he stumbled.

Oliver had quietly extricated himself from the pool and lay down by the edge.  
As Bruce stepped back, his feet collided with Oliver.  
He had seen the sneaky archer's movement in his periphery, and wanted enjoy the moment, have some fun.

Knowing it was time, he released Dinah and let himself fall back.  
A loud splash accompanied Dinah's gleeful whoop.

As Dinah reached for her phone to take a picture, Bruce came up beside Oliver.  
When Oliver turned towards Dinah for the picture, Bruce braced against the side wall of the pool, before reaching for the back of Ollie's shirt.

Just as Dinah took the picture, Bruce wrenched and kicked off with his powerful legs.  
Oliver went flailing back into the water.

 

Dinah clutched her sides, laughing outrageously as she saw the picture had captured the perfect moment.

Oliver's wide mouthed O of surprise as he went airborne, and Bruce's smug smiling face with wet bangs falling across his eyes.

Dinah was glad to see Bruce willing to relax and let his hair down.  
Maybe it would be a good night for romance between Diana and Bruce.  
Grinning happily, she forwarded the picture to the Amazonian Princess, with a message to try to arrive early.

It wasn't often Bruce was playful, and she hoped her friend would be able to take advantage of it.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Diana was sitting through a meeting.  
She couldn’t concentrate on the bland man in front of her.  
All she could think about was her packed bag, waiting in her private bathroom, and her upcoming date with Bruce.  
Trying not to tap her nails on the desk, she heard her phone’s quiet ping.

The man just paused.  
“I’ll be just a moment” Diana said apologetically.  
Everyone that came to an appointment in her office knew she could be called away at a moments notice.

Stepping into the executive bathroom, she unlocked her phone.  
Another message from Dinah.  
The earlier message had let Diana know that Bruce was on the ground safely.

This message made Diana’s eyes widen.  
It was a picture of Bruce and Oliver, they appeared to be horsing around in a pool.  
Diana sighed and ran her nail lightly over Bruce’s smiling face after she zoomed in on it.  
It seemed the Bat was away for the moment, and it was Bruce relaxing at last.  
Her heart gave a lurch.

She quickly replied to Dinah, saying she hoped to be joining them soon.  
Running her hand through her hair, she looked at her reflection.  
There was a definite spark in her eyes.

Trying not to sigh, she braced herself and returned to the office.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Clark had finished the last of his interviews of arriving glitterati.  
He remembered now why he didn’t cover social engagements.

Checked into a reasonably priced hotel, he slumped on the bed.  
His mind skittered over thoughts of Bruce.  
That elastic feeling, that was pulling him towards the Gothamite, was vibrating with need.  
Clark needed Bruce.  
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.  
It was obvious to Clark that Bruce didn’t need him.  
He was debating with himself, should he just go?  
‘The article can take a running jump’ he thought sourly.

The mobile phone on the nearby nightstand chimed.  
Leaning across the bed, he unlocked the device to find a message from Oliver.  
It was a picture, it must have been taken by Dinah because it showed Ollie and Bruce.  
Clark’s heart skipped a beat.  
Bruce was smiling as he dragged Oliver into the pool from behind.

Clark took off his glasses and used his X-ray vision.  
He focussed on the penthouse balcony of the posh hotel nearby.  
Oliver had a towel around his neck and was putting his phone down on the table.  
Bruce was heaving himself out of the water.  
The shirt was stuck to the muscled body, and pants clung to his well defined legs.  
Bruce took off a shoe and poured water from it, laughing with the Star City duo.  
Clark wanted nothing more than to join them.

Continuing to watch, he saw Bruce look to Oliver and raise an eyebrow in Dinah’s direction when he caught the archers gaze.  
Ollie gave a small nod, and the pair started stalking Dinah.  
A smile flitted across Clark’s face as he watched the ensuing struggle, and Dinah’s eventual dunking in the pool, along with Oliver, again.  
Clark ached at the sight of Bruce’s wide smile.  
With a deep sigh, he flopped back down onto the bed and put his forearm over his eyes.

Oliver’s words floated through his head again.  
“Listen to his heart.” the archer had said.  
It was hard not to compare Bruce’s reaction to him at the airport to the carefree billionaire that was mucking around with friends at the hotel.

“Bruce has never been one for admitting to himself that he feels deeply.  
Hell, he probably has no idea what he’s feeling.” Ollie had said.

If Bruce didn’t understand these feelings, the actions and words that had come from the man that day at the Manor, were perfectly understandable.  
It didn’t help the sadness that seemed to engulf him.  
Clark knew how he felt but didn’t think he could face that disappointed look on Bruce’s face, the avoidance, the rejection.

Clark pushed aside his inner turmoil.  
He got up and retrieved his laptop.  
Opening it up, he went to his document that contained the schedule of events for the day.  
A charity football game was being held in the early part of the afternoon.  
There was a fair for the kids that ran throughout the day until sunset.  
A fireworks display would conclude that portion of events, just after dusk.

The Gala wouldn’t commence until 8pm.  
Clark tried not to flinch.  
The thought of Brucie, at Diana’s side, flirting with the socialites, made him feel sick.  
He pushed away from the desk and got himself a soda from the small fridge.  
Sighing, he gulped the cold, fizzy concoction and rubbed the back of his neck.

Resolving to himself, he returned to the laptop and started to write up his notes about the arriving jet set.  
After Bruce’s comments about not doing his job, during that embarrassing rescue, he was determined to be professional about writing up his article. He couldn’t help but hear Bruce’s musical laughter as he began to type.

A smile crossed his lips as his hands continued to move across the keyboard.  
At least Bruce seemed to be having a good time, for the moment.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

As Bruce, Oliver and Dinah made their way to the corporate box seats, Bruce kept an eye open for Clark.  
He didn’t want to run into the reporter again so soon.  
It was inevitable that they would see each other, and Bruce was bracing himself for those cerulean eyes that seemed to haunt his dreams lately.  
The faint pressure inside his skull seemed to shift with his thoughts of Clark.  
It wasn’t painful, it reminded him of an aching muscle after a good long workout.  
When you could feel that you’d worked hard and felt satisfied.  
Bruce pondered if he could flex it like a muscle.

Oliver’s laughter distracted him from trying.  
They were in a private area with only a few other people.  
Ollie and Dinah seemed to be joking with a man about who was going to win.  
Putting on his Brucie Wayne smile, he went over to them.  
Of course Gotham was going to win!  
He joined in the banter, and soon the cheerleaders began the pre game warm up.

 

Twenty minutes before the game started, Victor arrived in the VIP area.  
Cyborg was publicly known to support Gotham.  
He attended as many games as he could, Justice League duties permitting.  
Victor was welcomed by all in the immediate vicinity, and he moved to speak with Oliver, Dinah and Bruce last.

It always threw Victor for a loop when he met up with Batman out of the uniform.  
In public, the man had a persona that was diametrically opposite of Batman.  
He always seemed to get a little nervous, knowing that the Bat lurked beneath the surface.

“Miss Lance, Mister Queen, Mister Wayne.” Victor said as he shook the two men’s hands, and received a kiss on the cheek from Dinah.  
“Glad you could come and support the team Mister Wayne”

“Please, call me Brucie” and the billionaire smirked.  
Victor shook his head.  
There was no way he was ever going to call the Batman ‘Brucie’.  
It seemed disrespectful, but at the same time, he understood that is was part of the secret identity the man worked so hard to maintain.

“The team will be wearing the new away uniforms today.  
The ones with the Wayne Enterprises sponsorship logo.” Victor said proudly.  
He missed playing with his old team.  
Bruce had been a huge help revitalising the flagging Knights after Victor, who had been the franchise player, was unable to continue due to his ‘upgrades’.  
The funding and attendance had dropped off, causing financial hardship to the Club.  
The Batman had come to the rescue, under the guise of Wayne Enterprises’ new PR campaign, and provided much needed backing.  
Was there anything the Batman couldn’t do?

As the group moved to a quiet corner of the private area, their voices dropped to furious whispers, while fake smiles adorned their faces.

“What did you find out Victor?” Bruce asked.

“I have sent you an updated report based on your data of last night.  
Basically, investigations haven’t been able to connect Luthor though any financial transactions.  
No information has been obtained about the special cargo.” the teen spoke rapidly.

Bruce nodded.

“The shipment arrived?” Dinah asked.  
“I wouldn’t have minded in on that collar.”

Bruce nodded again before whispering  
“There wasn’t time Dinah, if it weren’t for Arthur’s information..” he left the statement at the dire implication.

“Were you able to stop it?” Ollie asked with a smile on his face.

Bruce just raised an eyebrow.

Oliver laughed loudly, ensuring that anyone looking over wouldn’t suspect them of talking about more serious matters.  
“What am I saying.  
Of course you were”

Bruce gave a mock cheers with his beverage, as if it were a glass of champagne, and a smirk curled his lips.

“I’d better keep moving, to avoid drawing too much attention” Victor said a little sadly.

“Will you be around after the game?” Dinah asked.

“I’m… I’m not sure.” Victor rubbed the back of his neck, the schick of metal on metal sounded quietly.  
Dropping his hand quickly, Cyborg tried not to blush in embarrassment.

Oliver intervened.  
“Stay Vic. Barry is coming to entertain the kids later.”

“Yeah” Victor whispered “But why would we hang out with regular everyday millionaires?”

“Billionaires” Bruce smirked.

Victor blushed this time.  
“Sorry Ba… Mister Wayne”

“Don’t sweat it.  
He’s just teasing you” Dinah laughed.

Victor looked over at the Gothamite and saw the smirk that curled his lips.  
He relaxed and laughed along with the Star City duo.  
“Maybe” he conceded.  
“I’m going to watch the game with the team, so I better get going.”  
After Victor shook hands again, and managed to secure another kiss from Dinah, he left the area.

 

Later, the game was going well.  
The Knights were behind but not by much.  
The turn over had come late at the end of the first half and Bruce wasn’t in the best of moods.  
Oliver was teasing him mercilessly.

There were bets being placed all around, so Oliver wanted Bruce to make a wager too.

“Not for money” Ollie said.

“I prefer to know what I’m betting up front” Bruce replied.

Oliver thought for a moment.  
As an idea came to him, his eyes went distinctly shifty.  
Bruce braced himself for some stupid Brucie stunt the archer was bound to come up with.

“Share a drink tonight!” Oliver stated confidently.

“A drink?” Bruce’s tone was flat.  
They knew he didn’t drink alcohol at these events.

“It’s a special drink” Dinah added.  
“Shayera brought it back from Oa”

Bruce lifted his eyebrow at them questioningly.  
“Special” was all he said.

“Didn’t you get a souvenir too?” Oliver asked.

“I did” Bruce said with a grin.

“What was it Bruce?” Dinah wanted to know.  
“I received a lovely pendant.  
I’m going to wear it tonight, so be sure to notice.”

“I’m sure Brucie will compliment you.” he plastered on his leering Brucie Wayne smile.  
“Your pendant is amaaaaazing Dinah, I mean, not compared to your tits, but….”

Dinah gave Bruce’s bicep a punch, and Oliver snorted into his soda.  
“You” hissed Dinah.  
“Don’t you give me the Brucie Wayne charm tonight mister”

Bruce chuckled, a deep rich sound that he felt bubble up from within.  
The two standing with him knew it was a fake persona, and there had been many times in the past where they all worked together to cover for one another.

Bruce didn’t even need to ask Dinah anymore, a single look would have her throwing her drink on him and shouting a random obscenity.  
“You’re as dumb as you are stupid” she had said at the last function.  
He snickered at the remembered incident.

Bruce looked at Dinah, put his hands up in a placating gesture.  
Dinah shook her head in the negative.  
“You will not ‘Brucie’, not tonight, not to Diana!”

Bruce’s mood flattened at the reminder of his date.  
He had been relaxing the company of Oliver and Dinah, and wasn’t sure if he was up for the challenge of fending off the Amazonian’s charms.  
“OK” he agreed.  
“But what do I get if Gotham wins the match?”

“Share a drink tonight!” Oliver restated.

“So what did Shayera get you?” Dinah asked again.

“Tech” was all he said as the game recommenced.

 

The game finished, unfortunately Gotham didn’t win.  
Bruce didn’t mind too much.  
The Knights were recovering and their game play had improved significantly.  
The conversation for the duration of the match had him feeling better about the Gala later.  
The biggest 'discussions' had occurred when the home team iced the Gotham kicker every time the long snapper lined up behind the holder and tried for the PAT.  
This was the kid’s first game, he was settling into the Knights well and would be a great addition to the team.  
A few muffed punts wasn’t a big deal this early in the future star’s career.

He had agreed, initially, to the one glass of ‘special alcohol’ but a few more bets on the field goals now had Bruce sitting at three.  
The team’s loss brought it to four.  
He mentally groaned.  
’Space wine’ he thought to himself, at least it would be a new experience and could prove interesting.  
Deciding he would try to enjoy the night, he resolved to leave his worries behind, for now.  
Batman rarely took nights off.  
Bruce even rarer still.  
He always had to ‘play the game’ when out at society functions.  
Being with his friends was a reassurance he was rarely afforded.

As they were making their way down to the exit, Bruce caught sight of Clark.  
The reporter had finished interviewing the football teams, and managers, and was currently talking with Victor.  
A light smile played around Clark’s lips as he took notes in his old fashioned notebook.  
Bruce’s heart skipped a beat.  
Clark’s head spun around and looked directly at Bruce.  
The tugging sensation in Bruce's stomach ratcheted up to a mid level vibration, and the pressure behind his eyes shifted again.

Bruce turned away, looking back at Dinah who hadn’t noticed.  
Oliver though, he was looking at Bruce with a twinkle in his eye.  
Ollie, and his exceptional ability to pick up on what was going on around him, wasn’t welcome in this instance.  
However, Oliver said nothing, and the trio continued out of the building.

 

Clark returned to his interview with Victor, which really consisted of the ongoing mending of fences on Clark’s part.  
It hadn’t taken long for Victor to put the initial setback of the Gotham mission behind him, especially as he continued to work with Batman.  
They were whispering about Batman’s successful capture of the shipment and crooks that had occurred.  
Victor was excitedly reporting that the weapons cache had been taken into evidence, and the smugglers arrested.  
The teen sure had a bad case of hero worship for the Dark Knight.  
Clark whole heartedly agreed with Cyborg’s opinion of the dark clad vigilante.  
Clark was more than relieved, the mission he had bungled for Bruce, was finally behind them all.

 

No one mentioned the man that got away, along with the special cargo.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

It was a short walk from the stadium back to the hotel.  
The children’s fair was in full swing in the big park next to the hotel itself.  
The fireworks would be spectacular from his balcony later.  
Oliver, Dinah and Bruce were all headed into the children’s fair.  
Barry was expected at 3.30pm as part of the fund raising.  
Children from the local hospital, the one that the charity was collecting the money for, didn’t seem to care if they had oxygen masks on, were wheel chair bound or had drips in their arms.  
They laughed and played games of skill or chance.  
The acts entertained and balloon animals were handed out.

The entire fair had been paid in advance, and so everything was set up for the odds to work out in the kids favour.  
Every child had a stuffed toy of some description, and carried bright bags of candy or goodies.  
Bruce was smiling at the overall good mood of everyone present.

Oliver and Dinah were arm in arm.  
It was their anniversary tomorrow, and the pair were already relaxing in celebration.  
Bruce had gifts for them in his luggage.  
He had also organised for them to stay at a suite in the same motel as the Gala, the one he was occupying the penthouse of.  
As he was debating whether to present them tonight, or at the brunch they had organised the next morning, a voice called out.

“Mister Queen, Miss Lance, Mister Wayne” 

Bruce couldn’t help the shiver that went down his spine.  
It was Clark.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Bat gets a few things off his chest.
> 
> Clark pays the price.
> 
> Dinah and Oliver want to smack Bruce upside the head, not necessarily for the same reasons.
> 
> Victor is confused.
> 
> Will the Bat ever understand these stupid 'feelings' everyone keeps going on about?  
> When will it end?
> 
>  
> 
> *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More 'feelings' wrangling.
> 
> A shorter chapter, but I wanted to get it out there before I get to the next part.
> 
> Will the Bat ever confront his feelings?  
> Or continue to put his big black boot in his mouth?
> 
> What's with that strange spark?
> 
> Frustrated Bat is frustrated.
> 
> Bring it on!
> 
> As always, Enjoy!
> 
>  
> 
> *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Clark and Victor headed out of the stadium area together.  
“Are you headed to the fair?” Victor asked.

“Sure. I’ll see if there’s anything newsworthy happening.” Clark replied easily.

Secretly, he just wanted to see Bruce again.  
He had caught the skip in the heartbeat of the billionaire, and lost himself momentarily when he turned to see the steel blue eyes regarding him.  
Clark had to work to hide his disappointment when the gaze looked away.

They were walking together, out of range of being overheard.  
Clark was doodling in his notebook to look like he was still interviewing the young Justice Leaguer.

“So, I take it Batman is still mad at you?” Cyborg said quietly.  
Ah, Clark thought, Victor had seen the interaction after all.

“Yeah, he’s going to be pretty ticked off for a while I think.” Clark said sheepishly.  
Inside, his heart ached.

“He’s bound to be in a better mood now that the delivery was successfully intercepted. I’m sure he released a bit of frustration on the scumbags.” Victor added helpfully.

“I hope so Vic. If Lantern continues to egg him on about where to shove some K, I’m afraid B will do it, just to shut Hal up if nothing else.” Clark tried to laugh it off.

“GL can be a bit…” Victor searched for the right word.

“Unhelpfully helpful? ” Clark added.

“Don’t you mean a Shit Stirrer?” Victor snickered.

The two men laughed.

As they approached the fair, Clark recognised the broad shoulders of Bruce a little ahead of them.  
After looking at Cyborg, he said uncertainly “Let’s test that theory of yours”

“Mister Queen, Miss Lance, Mister Wayne”  
  
Clark couldn’t miss Bruce’s reaction to his voice.  
It gave him a boost to his confidence.  
He didn’t think the Bat would berate him in front of Oliver, Dinah and Victor.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Bruce felt his heart lurch in his chest.  
The tightness in his stomach twanged and that pressure behind his eyes shifted once more.  
It was like a soft focus lense had dropped over his mind, making him feel a bit fuzzy.  
The sun shone off Clark’s dark hair, and the smile was bright.Not the usual dazzling smile, Bruce noted.  
When did he start to notice Clark’s smiles?

Watching Clark shake hands with Ollie, and receive a kiss from Dinah, he knew there was no avoiding the reporter.

Clark stretched his hand out.  
Bruce stared at it for a moment.  
A nudge from Ollie had him in motion before he had time to think too deeply about it.  
Their palms touched, fingers shifted to clasp each other and there was a spark.  
A tremor rocked Bruce and he pulled his hand away quickly, as if he’d been burnt.

“Mister Kent” Bruce responded cooly.  
  


Clark subconsciously pushed his glasses up his nose.  
He was also checking his hand for signs of an electrical burn.  
The charge he felt had been a shock to his system, and had his brain stuttering for a moment.

“Fancy meeting you here” Bruce said, his tone wasn’t flat exactly, but it wasn’t welcoming either.

“At my job?” Clark asked, his smile dimming a little.

Bruce raised an eyebrow, his mouth was a parody of a smile, looking more like a grimace.  
“What are the chances of that?”

“Um.. pretty good I’d say, one to one odds?” Clark couldn’t help himself.

Oliver snorted and Dinah giggled.  
Poor Victor just looked uncomfortable.

“Would either of you like to comment about the game?” Clark asked, opening to a new page in his notebook.

“There was never any doubt in my mind as to who would win today’s game” Oliver said smugly.

Bruce harrumphed as he was rubbing his hand, Clark noticed the surreptitious movement but didn’t know what to say, whether he should mention it at all.  
It seemed as if the billionaire had felt that discharge of energy between them as well.  
Clark pondered that mysterious fact for a nanosecond, before deciding he would dwell on it later.  
His gut was purring and it felt like the sun was trying to light up the back of his eyeballs from inside his head.

“And you Mister Wayne? As a sponsor, do you have an opinion on today’s match?” Clark asked softly.

“The Knights are coming together well.” the Gothamite stated proudly.

“How will Wayne Enterprises’ PR section react to today's loss?” Clark was getting into reporter mode, but he was just happy Bruce was talking to him.  
He had to resist looking in those blue eyes that narrowed at him in response to his question.

Bruce started counting points off his fingers, emphasising certain words that made Clark flinch.  
“The team performed as a cohesive unit, working together towards their defined objective.  
They were able to follow instructions, clearly given by the Manager.  
No one acted rashly, and they avoided unnecessary injuries”  
Bruce’s tone was flat, and the small group looked at each other in silence.

Crossing his arms, Bruce hissed, anger continued to flare in those steel blue eyes.  
“The Knights didn't ruin their standing in the bigger picture.  
It was a well planned charity match, designed to benefit the greater good and their efforts were well considered before any action was taken.  
We don't consider this particular game a loss.”

Bruce’s eyes flashed with triumph, as Clark visibly deflated.

Oliver nudged Bruce and frowned at his fellow billionaire.  
“What?” Bruce asked, looking the picture of innocence.  
  


“Dick” whispered Oliver.  
  


“I’m a detective, so not an insult Ollie” Bruce smirked.  
  


Dinah and Victor looked on, feeling a bit gobsmacked at the Dark Knight’s viciousness.

Victor coughed, and suddenly he was pinned by everyone’s attention.  
Tugging on his Gotham Knights tunic, plastered with the Wayne Enterprises logo, he didn’t look in the angry Bat’s direction.  
“I’m just going to wait for Barry over by the stage” he said awkwardly.  
  


“Mind if I join you?” Clark asked sounding distinctly despondent.  
  


“Not at all Su.. Mister Kent” Victor sounded unsure of himself.  
Cyborg had seen the Batman pissed before, but admittedly, he had never been standing quite this close to the hissing man, spitting words at Clark in his cold venomous fury.  
It was really frightening.  
  


The two wandered off.  
Both Oliver and Dinah whirled on Bruce.  
Dinah had a frown on her face and Oliver crossed his arms.  
Bruce let his hands fall to his sides and shrugged his shoulders.  
“I spoke nothing but the truth.”  
  


Oliver glared at Bruce, feeling frustration rise up.  
This is ridiculous, he thought to himself.  
  


Dinah felt it was time for Batman to get over it.  
She was about to speak up for Clark when her phone tinkled.  
Reaching into her pocket, she had a bad feeling about Bruce’s mood.  
  


While Dinah turned away to her phone, Oliver raised an eyebrow at Bruce.  
“Harsh” was all the archer had to say.  
  


Bruce flicked imaginary lint from his shoulder.  
“Be grateful that I haven’t taken Lantern up on any of his suggestions, it was only words and not a Kryptonite batarang to the forehead.  
How else am I supposed to get through that thick skull of his?”  
  


“Try shutting your dick holster next time” Oliver hissed, clearly upset with his friend.  
“I mean, really Bruce?  
That was a trip to sarcastic island off the coast of that was uncalled for.”

Bruce just looked away as Dinah rejoined the group with a smirk on her face.

“Who was that Little Bird?  
Everything alright?” Oliver asked, uncrossing his arms and seeming to return to normal.

“It’s fine.  
Diana wanted to know if we were having a good time.” she smiled at Bruce encouragingly.  
  


Bruce scowled and started heading into the fair.  
This day was going from bad to worse.  
Resisting the temptation to just get on board his jet and head back to Gotham, he took a cleansing breath, and made his way over to the nearest booth.  
  


Dinah looked at Oliver questioningly.

“He’ll get over himself, eventually” Oliver sighed.

Shaking her head at the development, Dinah took Ollie’s hand and squeezed gently.  
“Just wait until Diana gets here.  
That will stop the gloomy one from dwelling on things, I’m sure of it.”

Oliver shook his head sadly and thought to himself that it was unlikely, however he didn’t want to spoil Dinah’s optimistic mood.

The couple followed the Gothamite into the fair.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Clark and Victor walked to the staging area in silence.  
Superman didn’t feel very super at the moment.  
So much for thinking Bruce would play nice around others.  
“I guess he didn’t release that frustration after all Vic” he said quietly after a few moments of awkwardness.  
  


“Yeah, that was kind of…” the teen paused, not wanting to say anything bad about Batman.  
  


“We’ll just let it be” Clark added hurriedly.  
He didn’t want to make Victor any more uncomfortable than he already was.  
  


“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea” Cyborg said gratefully.

They approached the area where Flash was to appear.

“Do you know what they’ve got Barry doing?” asked Clark.

Victor snorted “Oh yeah, and you’ll never believe it”

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Dinah walked arm in arm with Oliver.  
The men seemed distracted and unusually quiet.  
She felt bad for Clark.  
Everyone knew the guy was a giant puppy.  
The fact that Clark always called Bruce his best friend, despite Bruce’s constant denials, was common knowledge.

The blonde paused in her musings.  
What is up with Bruce?  
Sure, he had every right to be mad at Superman, but this seemed to be going a bit far.  
Clark had looked pretty hurt by the Batman’s words.  
Oliver didn’t seem to happy about it all either.

Dinah had tried to pry something from her boyfriend, sensing he knew more than he was letting on, but he hadn’t said a word.  
She tried to think back over the recent events.  
There were no indications that anything unusual was going on, but her instincts were telling her that she was missing something.

To be honest, she and Oliver were still waiting for Bruce to come down on them like a ton of bricks because of the car.  
There was no way that Batman wouldn’t have caught on to their Joyride.  
He always knew everything that was happening.

No, there was something else.  
Something had Bruce tied up in knots, that was plain to see.  
To outward appearances, it didn’t look like the Gothamite was particularly upset, despite having just been confronted by Clark’s presence.  
Dinah could tell that Bruce was no longer relaxed.  
That Brucie smile might be on his face, but Black Canary could see right through it.  
She resolved to keep an eye on the dark brooding one, and kick his ass if he needed it.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

A pain clenched in Bruce’s chest, clamping down on him hard.  
He was angry at himself.  
The words he’d spit out at Clark were harsh, as Oliver had said.  
Tightness inside him was coiled, like an overwound watch, and the pressure was building.  
Bruce hadn’t intended to let the reporter get under his skin, it seemed to come pouring out of nowhere, and he felt light headed as a result.  
He rubbed at the bridge of his nose angrily.  
There was no way he could keep this up.  
It was exhausting.

Bruce felt tired all the time, lethargy seemed to creep over his muscles and he struggled to remain focussed.  
His concentration was shot, and he wasn’t sleeping during the hours he allowed himself to rest.  
Patrol was a constant battle that didn’t give him any satisfaction anymore.  
The only time he felt better was when, no, he refused to think about that.

However, his mind was not going to let it be, no matter how hard he tried.  
What was with that strange static discharge?  
Bruce had seen Clark look at his hand in confusion.  
Whatever was happening, Clark was unaware of it, innocent.  
Grumbling to himself, he rubbed his thumb over the spot, subconsciously.

Bruce felt he should never have left Gotham.  
There was unfinished business to attend to, and he was getting himself worked up again.  
Clark was here.  
All his thought processes came to a crashing halt.  
His step faltered and his eyes darted around in the direction Clark had gone in with Victor.  
  


As Oliver and Dinah came up behind him, Dinah noticed his uncharacteristic stumble.  
“Bruce?” she asked as she touched his elbow lightly.  
  
  
He looked up into her concerned gaze, seeing Oliver’s creased brow in his periphery.  
It made him think of Alfred.  
An explosive sigh burst from him.  
  


“It’s fine Dinah, I’m just… I’ve not… I haven’t been well” Bruce tried.  
“I know Clark didn’t deserve that.  
The injuries are nagging and, frankly, I’m as tired as all Hell.  
Part of me wants to just go and lay down for a week, but uninterrupted sleep eludes me lately.  
I’m not myself.” Bruce grimaced at his unintentional revelations.  
  


Dinah looked into Bruce’s troubled eyes.  
“Well, you might feel better if you talk to Clark.  
Tell him what you just told me.  
Better to get it off your chest, resolve the situation, and then you can relax on your date tonight with Diana.” Canary spoke softly, trying to calm the out of character skittishness she could see.  
  


The words made sense to Bruce, but the lurching inside his stomach wouldn’t subside.  
He had nothing against Diana, she was, in fact, a lot of fun to be around.  
She was caring, understanding and honest.  
The Princess was one of the finest people he knew.  
But, and here was the kicker, every time he thought of his date with her, he would have a physical reaction.  
It was new, and unexplainable to Bruce.  
For someone that liked to have all the answers, it didn’t sit well with him.  
  


Oliver added his two cents.  
“I agree that you need to talk”  
The concern was clear in his voice.

Oliver knew the Boy Scout would be hurting.  
Anyone that had experienced the sharp tongue of the Bat would be able to relate.  
Knowing that Bruce was wrestling with unfamiliar feelings and emotions, he wanted to help both men.

Bruce needed to acknowledge these feelings he seemed to be struggling with.  
Oliver recognised them from first hand experience.  
He was young once, but he had lived a different life to the black clad vigilante.  
Perhaps Bruce just needed the right kind of encouragement.  
No one really knew the Bat as well as Clark did, so the Kryptonian was the glaringly obvious choice to fight the repression the Gothamite was subjecting himself to.

Clark needed to stand up and let himself show Bruce that he wasn’t going to take this anymore, that he was miserable.  
Getting past their inherent personalities was hard enough at the best of times.  
Add the dangerous lifestyle, the penchant for getting hurt, and the need to be understood, it was right there, in front of the stubborn Bat if only he would open his eyes and truly see.  
Anyone with half a brain, and half a clue, could see the Super was pining away.

Bruce was too hard on himself, and Clark was too soft on everyone else.

 

Bruce wore an expression of disbelief.  
He had expected to hear more from the Star City duo.  
They looked sympathetic  
The Bat was unimpressed with his out of character behaviour, and Bruce was mortified that he had admitted his failings out loud.  
He hadn’t even acknowledged half of the things to himself, or rather, he had pushed everything aside to deal with the fall out of the of the failed mission.  
Telling himself, at the time, that he would deal with it all later, he had continually put it all off.  
Whatever was going on, it was obvious it had something to do with Clark, and it was time he faced that fact.

Bruce needed information, and to get rid of these strange symptoms, once and for all.

Both Oliver and Dinah watched the shifting expressions cross Bruce’s face.  
“It’s time” Oliver said.

“You need to face this Bruce, so you can put it behind you.” Dinah added.

The couple looked at each other, and as one, they moved forward to gently turn Bruce around, and pushed him off into Clark’s direction.

Chaos seemed to swirl inside his head, he looked towards the staging area and the crowd seemed to take that moment to part just enough for him to catch a glimpse of dark hair and bespectacled blue eyes.

Time stopped, as his feet moved forward, from the back of his mind he felt the uncertainty, the hesitation, the outright fear.  
He was simply drawn towards Clark.

Bruce had no idea what he was going to say or do, just that he needed to do something.

 

Clark had overheard the conversation between Bruce, Dinah and Oliver.  
He felt an overriding sense of guilt, shame and a flicker of joy.  
Wrinkling his nose at that last one, he looked up to see Bruce moving slowly through the crowd.

Indicating to Victor that he’d be back, Clark moved in Bruce’s direction.  
It was now or never, he thought.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Bat has an awkward moment, will the conversation with Clark work out for the better, or worse?
> 
> What’s a Kryptonian to do when his favourite Bat seems flustered?  
> Can he convince the broody one, or will the Bat just keep pushing him away?  
> What’s with all the mixed messages?
> 
> The Flash arrives.
> 
> Then so does Diana.
> 
> Oliver plays cupid.
> 
> Dinah is hoping Diana and Bruce will get together.
> 
> Oi Vey!
> 
> *~*~*~*~*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The children’s fair shenanigans.  
> Heroes supporting good causes.
> 
> Some humour, some more pining and angst, and fluff, lots of fluff.
> 
> I wanted to write more Diana, but I struggled to find her voice.  
> Figuring it was better to leave it out than to write crap, I deleted the part.
> 
> As always, enjoy!! 
> 
> *~*~*~*~*

*~*~*~*~*

 

Part 4 of the Gala Interlude (or The Jealous Clark Arc)

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Bruce felt the pull, the invisible line that drew him towards the tall reporter.  
He instinctively wanted to resist.  
The Bat flailed inside him, logic rejecting the sensations Bruce was experiencing.  
The billionaire was conflicted.  
Run.  
Don’t run.  
Run towards Clark.  
Run away from Clark.  
What he couldn’t do was stand still.

His feet shuffled on the ground, and once again, he stumbled.  
Strong arms shot out to steady him. Fire burnt a trail throughout his body. He flinched as if scalded.  
Clark released his grip quickly, and stepped back.

Bruce felt the loss of that heat immediately.

“Clark” his voice was shaky.  
His heart began to beat wildly.  
It was as if a coal glowed red inside him, feeling like it was about to ignite.  
Bruce shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts.  
He needed to be determined, ruthless, coldly logical, he needed to know what was going on.

 

“Bruce?” Clark asked anxiously.  
Overhearing Bruce’s conversation with Dinah and Oliver was one thing, getting the man to speak, to open up, was another.  
He could hear the pulse flutter wildly in the handsome man. Thunderous heartbeats echoed by his own.

“B?” he asked again.

 

Bruce ran his hand through his hair.  
Looking away from those hypnotic eyes, he spotted an empty park bench underneath a tree. It was far enough away from the crowd that they could talk without being overheard.

“We need to talk Clark.” he said gruffly.  
Motioning to the bench, he began to walk towards it.

Clark fell into step with him, as natural as breathing.  
Bruce didn’t want to look too deeply at that.  
They had worked together a long time and they had always been in sync.  
Fighting the enemy, back to back, fending off the worst of the worst, protecting each other.  
‘Natural’ he thought to himself.

Bruce took some deep meditative breaths and tried to centre himself.  
  


Clark felt the change in Bruce.  
No longer did the thrumming in his stomach churn and bubble, as if unsettled.  
There was still a vibration, a hesitant thrum, but it was returning to the purring he experienced whenever Bruce was nearby.

It wasn’t far to the bench.  
The leaves, letting small specks of dappled afternoon sunlight through, shaded them.  
They sat in silence for a minute, two minutes.  
  


Clark tugged on his tie, and Bruce cleared his throat.  
“Bruce”  
“Clark”  
They both spoke at the same time.  
  


Bruce waved his hand for Clark to proceed, but Clark started to insist Bruce go first.

When a small laugh broke from the billionaire, Clark looked on with unhidden surprise and delight.  
He felt his lips curl into a smile, gentle and soft.  
Clark would never get sick of hearing that sound.

“Some World’s Finest” the Gothamite said, covering his mouth with the back of his hand until the giggles settled.

“We do alright” Clark replied.  
  
  
Bruce turned slightly to face the Kansas raised hero.  
There was Clark, sitting in his rumpled suit, looking as beautiful as the day they met.  
Pushing down the desire to straighten the lapels, Bruce took a deep breath and let it all out in a rushed exhale.

After a momentary pause, the man spoke.  
“What’s going on Clark” he sounded tired, even without super hearing.  
Clark didn’t have an answer, and the Bat wouldn’t like that.  
Running his hand through his hair, he tried to piece it together.  
What did Bruce feel?  
Did he have the same sensations as Clark?  
It was obvious the billionaire had felt that electrical discharge between them, but did he feel it the same way Clark did?  
Was it a Kryptonian thing?  
Was it his cheap store bought suit letting off mere static?  
  


“I honestly don’t know B” Clark said resignedly.  
“I wish I had an answer for you.  
I don’t have the answer for myself. I…” he paused.  
Looking into those wolf blue eyes, there was none of the steel and fury of earlier.  
They were soft, expressing the vigilante’s struggle, the uncertainty, and Clark tried not to let himself fall into them.  
  


Bruce looked at the man next to him.  
The way the specks of light seemed to reflect off that perfection filling his gaze, it took his breath away.  
He wanted to reach out and touch.  
Clamping down on the reaction, he tried to focus his mind.  
That feeling behind his eyes had changed to a soft, gentle brushing against his mind.  
Bruce knew Clark wasn’t telepathic, but it felt almost familiar.  
Similar to the experience when J’onn was reaching out to talk to him mentally.

“I’m tired Kal” he said, letting go of his instinctive reaction to hide away any thoughts or words of failure, letting these unresolved ‘feelings’ rise to the surface.  
They were strange, in the same way getting into an alien spacecraft and figuring out how to fly it before being blown up was strange.  
His famed brilliance didn’t seem to be as useful in this situation.  
Letting the previously repressed thoughts free in his mind was somehow liberating and frightening all at once.  
  


“Bruce” Clark said the name with reverence.  
The man did indeed look tired.  
Bags under the blue eyes, previously hidden, seemed to jump out at him.  
Bruce turned and looked back towards the crowd, resting his elbows on his knees and propping his chin on his hands.  
Clark thought he looked gorgeous.  
But there was an underlying weariness too.  
He may not know what was happening, but he felt guilty for the man’s condition.  
  


Bruce sighed heavily.  
Those haunting feelings rose up in him and he instinctively wanted to push them down.  
It was so fucking frustrating!  
He wanted to grab his own hair and pull it with how he was feeling.  
This? He asked himself, this is what Alfred wanted him to embrace?  
Tension started to rise and he gritted his teeth.  
Closing his eyes, he tried to focus on breathing.

 

Clark felt it. He felt the shift in Bruce.  
His eyes widened in shock.  
The strange pulling, the filled head feeling, it seemed to be telling him that Bruce was fighting with himself.  
Clark wanted to reach out and touch.  
He wanted to reassure Bruce, the lack of understanding was obviously tormenting the man, with words like ‘You’re not alone’ and ‘I’m here’ but he couldn’t.  
Clark’s own doubts and guilt swamped him.  
Looking at his useless hands sitting in his lap, he held back the tears that wanted to form.  
Blinking rapidly, he felt himself sinking once more.

 

Bruce looked up.  
What was that? he pondered.  
There was a tickle in the back of his mind, a feeling of despair that didn’t belong to him.  
Looking over at Clark, he saw the sadness as the Super powered alien, saw the hands open helplessly before clenching into fists, only to slowly open again, over and over.  
Clark looked like any other man, no sign of the alien hero showing in demeanour or expression.

Bruce’s throat dried up.  
He tried speaking Clark’s name but nothing came out.  
A paralysing tightness swept over him.

What the fuck is gong on? he wanted to know.

Both of them were thinking along the same lines.

Bruce couldn’t stand it anymore.  
Despite wanting to run as hard and as fast as he can, he didn’t.  
Slowly, so as not to startle, he reached his hand out and cupped Clark’s face.

No jolt accompanied the contact this time, just an increase in that vibrating, purring feeling in both men’s bellies. 

Those cerulean eyes blinked back moisture, and Bruce felt his heart break.  
“Clark” he said softly, once he regained the ability to talk.  
“This isn’t your fault” he added.

Clark looked at him disbelievingly.

“We’ll figure it out Clark” Bruce tried to sound reassuring, despite his inner turmoil.  
“Now is not the time or place, but we’ll get to the bottom of it, somehow”  
  


Clark latched onto those words, and leaned gently into the hand on his face.  
He wanted to believe, oh so badly.  
What choice did he have?  
“OK Bruce” he whispered.  
  


Bruce felt those words in the depths of his core.  
It shook him.  
Removing his hand slowly, he stood in front of the reporter and extended his hand.  
When Clark reached for it, thinking it to be a handshake, Bruce wrenched the Super up from his seat, and didn’t let go.

They were almost touching chest to chest, their hearts synchronised with the grace of ballet dancers.  
Clark wanted to lean in and kiss the man in front of him.  
  


Bruce gripped the hand in his, and before anything else could happen, voluntarily or not, he said one word “Friends?”  
  


Clark felt relieved and shut out at the same time.  
Friendship was better than outright rejection, he thought bitterly.  
Bruce must have seen his expression change and took that small half step closer, lips brushed skin as Bruce whispered “Kal” in his ear.  
Clark shuddered, the tremor ran through his body, and Bruce would have no choice but to feel it.  
  


Bruce inhaled sharply, and pushed away the overwhelming desire that came from nowhere, to take that lobe gently into his mouth, to brush his lips over it, to nip it and caress it with kisses.

Bruce suddenly stepped back.  
He didn’t relinquish the hold he had on that warm hand, instead he turned and tugged the Kryptonian along behind him.  
“Come on” he said gruffly.  
  


Clark was momentarily dazzled, before he found himself being dragged back to the fair.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Oliver raised an eyebrow at the sight of the Bat dragging Superman back towards them.  
A cough covered his growing smile.  
Dinah looked at him but he gave nothing away even if his eyes sparkled with mischief.

Dinah was shooting at ducks with a BB gun.  
Every prize she won, she gave away to the growing crowd of children that had gathered.  
Oliver was proud of his little bird.  
He leaned in to give her a peck on the cheek, and when she looked at him questioningly, he leaned in to whisper.  
“As much as I’m enjoying your marksmanship, and your generous loving soul, Bruce is returning and it might be time to move away from the guns, hmmm?”

Dinah knew straight away that reminding the Batman of the gun shipment was a sure way to keep the ongoing foul mood.  
She nodded at Oliver, fired her final shot, and leaned down to present her prize to a nearby girl.  
The girl squealed with delight as expensive leather shoes entered her periphery.

 

Bruce had held on to Clark’s hand until the last minute.  
Clark felt it’s loss immediately, but the warmth in his chest continued to bloom.  
The dopey smile on his face was a welcome relief from the pain he had been feeling over the last week.  
  


Clark and Bruce joined the pair, and the group continued to tour the carnival.  
Playing games of skill, rather than chance, a healthy competition ensued.  
They were all excellent shots, although Bruce and Clark regularly goofed off in their personas.  
Oliver was glad to see the two seemed to have made up.  
Just how much ‘made up’ remained to be seen.  
His sharp eyes saw the near accidental contact the two seemed to be sharing constantly.  
Clark was smiling again, Bruce’s eyes lit up at every new thing as he handed out toys to happy sick kids.  
Oliver didn’t know what they had said to each other, but things were definitely better.  
The archer pondered if he could help things along.  
It’s wasn't that he was playing matchmaker, he told himself, knowing that there was an underlying ‘something’ between the two, he just felt a nudge here and there would do the Bat good.

And it was definitely a relief to see a genuine smile on the normally brooding face.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

The group was coming to the end of sideshow alley, and the squeals of delight hit them from the nearby rides.  
  


“Who’s up for some thrills?” asked Dinah.  
Bruce simply raised his eyebrow at her.  
Clark giggled. Really? Dinah thought to herself. Superman giggling? What next?  
Admittedly, she was relieved to see the tension had dissipated from between the two friends.  
They were clowning around, acting like the children that had started following the group.  
Bruce was deliberately throwing his shots off, wildly spinning rings from the bottle toss game onto the poor vendor.  
Clark was laughing so hard that no sound came out.

Oliver was making enough sound for all of them, his guffaws sounding loud above the din.  
Dinah was just pleased that the mood had turned for the better.  
She hoped Diana would be able to arrive soon.  
  


“Um, the rides aren’t going to be thrilling for all of us” Clark said.

“Well” Ollie drawled “How about something more relaxing?”  
The archer looked over at where the ferris wheel, and other less taxing rides on the unwell children.  
They sauntered over in the general direction, passing the haunted house as shrieks of kids laughter sounded inside.

As they neared the bumper cars, Bruce grabbed Clark’s hand and raced ahead.  
Dinah and Oliver looked at one another before dissolving into a sniggering fit.  
Bruce still hadn’t mentioned their little joyride in his BatTank™.  
  
The pair were acting like little boys, pushing and shoving each other to line up and pick which colourful contraption they wanted.  
As Oliver and Dinah joined the pair, Bruce waved a bit of cash to ensure they would have the track to themselves for a short while, not wanting to put any of the children at risk.

Bruce chose a yellow car with black and silver stripes.  
Clark’s was bright red.  
Oliver found a lime green one that he loudly stated “was meant to be” and Canary found a sky blue one that suited her cheerful mood.  
  


Once the other drivers had been cleared, and the foursome squeezed themselves into the tiny seats, the ride operator dropped the flag, they were off.  
Dinah immediately drove into Clark’s bumper car, and Oliver was shunted by Bruce.  
The small circular track was meant to be lapped 3 times, but with all the collisions they were aiming at each other, they barely made it around twice.  
There was cheering from the sidelines and everyone had a great time.  
  


As their turn finished, Oliver went to help Dinah from her car.  
He noticed Clark pull Bruce from his, and the two were leaning heavily on each other, gripping shoulders and waists, wiping away tears of laughter.  
Oliver felt the rightness of it all.  
Taking Dinah in his arms, he spun her around high in the air until the track was inundated with the next lot of drivers.  
The four moved quickly, claiming loudly that they didn’t trust the evil little grins that the kids wore, with good natured humour.

The group was panting and still snickering as they made their way back out towards the rest of the rides.

Oliver looked at the Tunnel of Love ride, but decided he wouldn’t push his luck.

 

After Dinah kicked all their asses on the mechanical bull, they decided it was close enough to time for Barry’s appearance, and wandered back over towards the staging area.

Victor hadn’t spent the intervening time idling away.  
He was displaying holograms, signing autographs, having his picture taken and answering questions.

Vic looked up as the group approached.  
Bruce seemed to be lingering behind with Clark.  
He couldn’t help the sigh of relief when he saw the World’s Finest appeared to have made amends.  
Their dark heads were close together, whispering and laughing.  
Again, Cyborg experienced that disorientation of seeing Batman, smiling and happy.  
Not that he cared, he was just pleased to see the team back together again.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Barry arrived right on time.  
He zoomed to a podium set up next to a tank of water.  
Thankfully it wasn’t a cold afternoon, and there was plenty of daylight left.

The organiser came over and shook his hand, thanking him for his time to help such a worthy cause.  
Barry never refused to help, circumstances permitting.

A spruiker on the podium started speaking into the microphone.  
“Step right up ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, we have a treat for you all.” the man began in a well rehearsed speech.  
The crowd began to form up in front of the stage area.  
“Everyone put your hands together for The Flash” the voice called over the PA.

There were squeals of joy from the children, and Barry went down to meet them all.  
He happily signed autographs and had his picture taken with them.  
The adults were applauding and thanking him.

“Mister The Flash” drawled a voice nearby.  
Barry recognised the voice and stood up.  
“It’s just Flash” he grinned, looking at Bruce Wayne.  
Next to him stood Dinah, Oliver, Victor and Clark.  
Barry wanted to ask if the Batman had finally forgiven Superman, but wasn’t willing to broach the subject in public.  
He knew all about the secret identity thing.  
  


“Pleasure” said Oliver, shaking his hand.  
  


Dinah acted the ham, asking for a picture with him while she kissed his cheek.  
It was lucky Iris was so understanding.  
  


Barry was laughing when the spruiker called him back to the stage.  
  


“Now then everybody, as you know, we’re here to raise money for charity.  
In order to help part you from your cash, The Fastest Man Alive has agreed to participate in a good old fashioned dunking booth.  
Who’s going to be first” the man called to the crowd.

Bruce’s hand shot up in the air.  
“I’ll pay $1000 to be first” he said.

Barry groaned.  
He knew he would get wet, he’d volunteered to be dunked, but didn’t think the Batman would be the first to send him into the drink.  
There was going to be teasing later, he just knew it.  
  


The Flash climbed onto the tiny seat at regular speed.  
His long legs meant his boots were touching the surface of the water.  
He had remembered to wear an old uniform that would’t mind a soak.  
Barry could vibrate most of the moisture from himself after every dip.

Remembering to play his part, he plastered a big smile on his face.  
As the Gotham billionaire rolled up his sleeves, Barry decided a little teasing might help others step up too.

“Come on rich boy” he called.“Can you even hit a target?”

The crowd tittered but Bruce got an evil gleam in his eye.  
Bruce didn’t reply, just collected the three balls and took his place behind the line.

“Batter batter batter up” called Barry.

Oliver was openly laughing.  
  


“You’re a sucker for punishment” Dinah replied.  
The crowd wasn’t sure who she was talking to, they hushed as they watched the spectacle from behind the roped off pitchers area.

Bruce’s first shot missed, deliberately so.  
“Awwwww, not into ball sports?” Barry snarked.  
  


Clark’s eyes widened and he looked at Oliver, who burst into gales of laughter.  
  


Bruce frowned at Barry for a moment, before reverting back to the Brucie leer.  
“Why? Are you looking for a handler?”

Barry just flushed red to match his uniform.“I… didn’t mean it that way. And careful what you say around the little ‘uns will you” he hissed.

“Hmmmm” Bruce said past his grin, lining up for his second shot.  
Again, he deliberately missed.  
  


“Do you need one of your Gotham Knight’s to take over for you?” Flash called out.  
“Oh wait, I heard they lost. Maybe it’s a Gotham thing, no aim!!  
Maybe you should have sponsored a baseball team, so they could teach you to throw."  
  


“You’re so dead for that.” Bruce’s flat tone replied.  
  


“What?  
You going to disappoint me to death?  
Just like your team?” and Flash covered his mouth in an exaggerated yawn.  
  


“Hey” Cyborg called from where he was standing near the stage.  
“Mister Wayne, I can help with targeting this loud mouth.”  
Victor knew it was all in good fun, but he also hoped Batman would drown Barry, just a little, for disparaging his ex-teammates.  
  


“Hey, no helping the chuckers!” Barry crowed.

The crowd laughed along with Barry.

“Thankyou Mister Cyborg, that won’t be necessary” Bruce called back.  
Barry sat with his arms crossed, not even looking in Bruce’s direction.  
He blew on his nails, and rubbed them on the front of his uniform.  
  


Oliver whispered into Bruce’s ear.  
“Are you going to let him get away with that?” 

“Not at all” Bruce smirked and threw the last ball. 

Barry didn’t need special abilities to know the ball would hit true.  
A loud splash accompanied cheers of delight.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

“Nice arm” a feminine voice said from behind him.  
Bruce whirled.  
“Diana” he was a little startled to see the Amazonian.  
He hadn’t been expecting to see her until later.

Dinah squealed and ran to her jeans clad friend.  
Throwing her arms around Diana’s neck, she exclaimed happily.  
“You made it!! I’m so glad you were able to get away early.”  
  


“How could I refuse?” Diana smiled.  
Diana had indeed managed to escape the office when her final appointment had to cancel, with many apologies.  
She dressed herself in civilian clothes, put her hair up in a ponytail, and donned a pair of sunglasses.  
Now could be by Bruce’s side without causing suspicion.  
Diana had been surprised to see Clark as part of the gathering.  
Reminding herself to ask Dinah about it when the opportunity arose, she turned her smile towards Bruce’s handsome face.  
  


“It’s almost an unofficial meeting” Diana laughed.  
“Did anyone invite J’onn, Arthur, Shayera or Hal?”  
  


As one, the others spoke.“Not Hal!!!!!”  
  


They all laughed together as Diana wrapped her hand around Bruce’s arm, making herself comfortable in his space.  
  


***

Hal was getting ready to leave his apartment to start the Monitor Duty shift he had swapped with Batman, when he inexplicably sneezed.

***  
  


Clark was decidedly uncomfortable.  
He had been mentally preparing himself for Diana’s appearance.  
What he didn’t expect was for her to turn up early and attach herself to Bruce.  
Jealousy reared it’s ugly head and Clark fought it down with difficulty.  
That stretching inside him was tight and uncomfortable, as if it would snap.  
Pressure pounded in his skull, and his hands clenched into inadvertent fists.

Clark caught Bruce looking at his hands, and looked down to see he was white knuckled.  
Mentally berating himself, he opened his hands to see his broken pen had leaked ink all over his palm and fingers.  
Sighing, he headed to the nearest mens room to wash up.  
What a disaster!

 

Bruce smirked at Clark’s ink stained hands.  
He wrapped an arm around Diana’s waist and leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek.  
“Good to see you Princess” he smirked.  
Suddenly, his stomach started to curdle and the taste of bile rose in the back of his throat.  
Crushing an instinct to move away from the Amazon beauty, he swallowed heavily.

“Shall we get a beverage?” he asked the group.

 

Dinah was pleased.  
The foursome looked like they were on a double date as they walked the short distance to the nearby concession stand.  
Barry, and Victor, had stayed to continue with the dunking booth.  
Diana was smiling, and Bruce seemed happy enough considering the events of the day.

 

Diana had her hand on Bruce’s arm.  
She had been pleased to arrive early and catch Bruce enjoying himself.  
Standing back until the last ball was thrown, she saw the easy smile and exchange of banter with Barry.  
Deciding not to push the brooding Bat straight away, she relaxed into the vibrant atmosphere.  
There would be plenty of time to talk later.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

A gaggle of people surrounded Bruce and his new ‘friends’.  
After The Flash Show, he was seen shaking Cyborg’s hand in thanks for the offer of ‘targeting’ help, and so Victor joined the group without any suspicion.  
The teen had giggled nervously along with Brucie’s persona.  
It was common knowledge that with WE’s sponsorship, along with Cyborg’s regular attendance at games, that the two would at least be familiar with each other.  
It also helped that Victor was wearing the team jersey with Wayne Enterprises stamped all over it.  
Flash had turned up with Cyborg, a sheepish expression on his face.  
Nothing unusual about Flash hanging out with his fellow Justice Leaguer, Cyborg.  
Victor had swatted at Barry half heartedly, and Bruce gave the scaled back BatGlare™, until Barry called uncle.

 

They were touring the areas where the kids were throwing balls at targets, adults were playing darts and there was a fishing game, amongst others.  
Slowly, they were heading out of the park and back to the hotel.  
  


The newly formed gang of Oliver and Dinah, Victor, Barry and Clark, Diana and Bruce, all spent time talking with the children.  
Bruce half expected J’onn to turn up in some shape shifting guise, and Shayera to just sail on in.  
Arthur was always busy with his duties as Sovereign of Atlantis.  
A shame as the Atlantean was very entertaining to be around.  
For a Sea King, he had a dry sense of humour that Bruce could appreciate.  
As long as Hal didn’t show up, the Lantern had been driving Batman somewhat crazy lately.  
  


Bruce had always said that they shouldn’t gather in public, but today seemed to be the exception to the rule.  
Everything had come together so naturally, there was little chance for anyone out of uniform to be recognised.  
  


Bruce considered ordering them all to break into smaller groups, hoping to get Clark away from hovering around the periphery, an instinct to protect the Boy Scout flared.  
Clark seemed determined not to let Bruce and Diana out of his sight.  
Admittedly, Bruce was a little concerned.  
However, with the costumed heroes present, the reporter had justification to be there.

Another gaggle of kids converged on Cyborg and Flash instantly.  
Barry and Victor were having their pictures taken and generally playing to the crowd.

“Mister Flash, Mister Flash” one small girl called “Will Superman come along too?”  
  


Bruce rolled his eyes.  
Oliver elbowed Bruce.  
Dinah bumped her hip against Oliver.  
This was turning into a regular boot scooting line up at this rate.  
  


Barry laughingly replied that Superman was off patrolling the world while Cyborg and himself were with the boys and girls.  
  
“What about Batman?” an older boy asked.“What are the chances of the BEST hero turning up?”

Bruce raised his eyebrow at the boy.

“Batman’s not the best” the first girl pouted “Superman is.”

Clark blushed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Wonder Woman is the best!!” called another girl from her wheelchair.  
Diana beamed at her.

From there, the posse of kids started arguing as to who was the best Justice Leaguer.  
  


Oliver quietly grumbled at the lack of Green Arrow supporters and was promptly laughed at by rest of the group.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Later.

It was quite the sight on Bruce’s balcony of the penthouse suite.  
Gathering to watch the fireworks after the children’s fair, it really did feel like an informal Justice League get together.

Dinah and Oliver stood wrapped up together at the balcony railing.  
Cyborg and Flash were teasing each other.  
Clark sat on a huge outdoor bean bag type thing, awkwardly.  
Diana had been attached to Bruce at the hip, until he ended up behind the bar offering everyone drinks.

“We really should invite Shayera, J’onn, Arthur and Hal” Flash called to the group.

As one, they all turned back to Flash and shouted “Not Hal!”  
Then, everyone, including Flash, dissolved into fits of laughter.  
  


***

Up on the WatchTower, Hal was on Monitor Duty and suddenly, he inexplicably sneezed.  
“Must be coming down with something” he muttered.  
  


***

Bruce tried to relax, but couldn’t help noticing the tension that seemed to be radiating from Clark.  
He felt it like an itch in his skull.  
It had been that way since Diana showed up.  


That singing in his stomach had changed it’s tune.  
Instead of the insistent tugging, it was boiling and gurgling.  
The almost comfortable pressure in his mind felt like it was expanding outside his head, and he felt hot and unable to breathe properly.

Instinctively, he began to breathe through one of his exercises, using the oldest of techniques, taught by the Khen-rinpoche in Tibet.  
The thoughts of his old teacher, and friend, calmed him instantly.  
Waves of frustration and heat seemed to leech out of him, and he took a relaxing deep breath.

 

Diana watched Bruce intently.  
She had enjoyed the stroll around the carnival atmosphere and didn’t attempt any serious talk.  
The one time they had been approached by paparazzi, Diana had leaned in to give Bruce a kiss, an exceptionally loud crash at the back of the pack of photographers drew the Bat’s attention before she could land it.  
Apparently someone had walked into a display of some sort.  
Diana didn’t think about it too much, but wasn’t really happy that she missed an opportunity to kiss Bruce.

Now, in the balmy early evening, they were all preparing to watch the fireworks display.  
Diana grinned.  
She would find the opportunity during the light show.  
  


When the first explosion hit the sky, exploding in a shower of colourful sparkles, Diana had grabbed Bruce’s hand and moved towards the balcony.

Dinah and Ollie were nearby, Oliver had his arms wrapped around his girlfriend from behind and rested his chin on her shoulder.

Victor and Barry leaned against the steel and glass barrier, watching with childlike enthusiasm. Their oooh’s and aaaah’s made Diana smile.

Clark stood between Bruce and the two young men gawping at the display, while Diana snuggled up on the end.  
She watched the various pyrotechnics spark and fizzle, the smell of gunpowder wafted over them.  
  


Unbeknownst to the gathered group, Clark and Bruce had both reached towards each other at the same time, linking their pinky fingers away from prying eyes.

 

Clark felt conflicted.  
Seeing Diana snuggled up against Bruce lit a dark fire in his belly.  
He was reassured by the contact with Bruce.  
They had moved their arms towards each other without conscious thought, at exactly the same moment.  
The contact settled the flames of jealousy.  
Just as the last red and gold display faded into the night, Clark reluctantly moved his hand and turned away from the billionaire.  
  
  


Diana turned from where her back was pressed against Bruce’s side and leaned towards him.  
The reflected explosion of colour in his eyes made them seem to glow.  
She was determined to get her kiss.  
Just as Bruce realised what she was doing, the Flash appeared next to them.  
“Ah… oops, sorry” Barry rubbed the back of his neck at the glare that Diana directed at him.  
“We’re ah just going to head off now”  
  


Victor joined them, looking curiously at Diana’s expression and Flash’s obvious embarrassment.  
Bruce wore no expression at all and it was oddly comforting to Cyborg.  
“Thanks for today Mister Wayne” Victor stated, shaking the billionaires hand awkwardly.  
Flash bumped Vic and also shook Batman’s hand, pumping it excitedly.  
  


“We raised $4000 from the dunking booth, the kids had a great time, and I was only dunked 14 times.” he said.  
Barry was speaking in his usual million kilometres an hour, and the group laughed gently.  
Diana let go of her irritation at the crimson clad speedster.  
There was always later at the Gala, she thought with fierce determination.  
  


The pair left, leaving the fivesome standing out in the evening breeze.  
Dinah had seen her friend’s thwarted attempt to kiss Bruce and shook her head.  
She felt that her friend needed a bit more coaching on flirting and decided to take her aside and talk to her before the Gala started.  
To that end, she broke away from Oliver and moved to Diana’s side.  
“Come on Di, let’s go and use the suite that Bruce kindly got for Ollie and I, we’ll do our girly things and get ready for the Ball” she smiled broadly.  
  


“Yeah, thanks Bruce, you didn’t have to, but it’s appreciated all the same” Oliver added.

Dinah led the Amazonion back inside before the Princess could object.  
“We will talk” she hissed quietly.

“Yes, you must tell me what to do” Diana replied to her friend.

The two began to conspire as soon as the door to Bruce’s suite closed behind them.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Oliver looked at the two men in front of him.  
Bruce was saying there were gifts for Ollie and Dinah, for their anniversary, waving his arm in the general direction of the bedroom.  
“One each, and one for both of you.  
They’re sitting on the bed inside” the Gothamite explained.  
Oliver noted that Clark hadn’t taken his eyes off Bruce, and was staring at him ravenously.  
  


“Right, well I’ll use the head and check out the packages” Oliver tried not to smirk.  
“Give me 10 minutes” he called over his shoulder as he stepped inside.

 

As soon as Green Arrow went inside, the two men lunged at each other.  
  


Bruce felt arms on him, even as he turned towards Clark.  
Moist soft lips landed on his own. He took the warm mouth hungrily, devouring it.  
Clark’s arms enveloped him, as his own hands roamed inside the cheap jacket Clark wore in his reporters disguise.  
He clawed at the invulnerable back, and narrowly avoided tearing the cotton shirt.  
Bruce’s moan was inhaled by Clark, as tongues swirled against each other.  
They both knew they only had a short time.  
  


Clark was panting into Bruce’s mouth.  
One hand moved to the back of Bruce’s neck, the other wrapped itself around the lower back.  
Their tongues stretched the short distance every time their lips parted, and they breathed through their open mouths.  
A few quick breaths and they would come back together, melding seamlessly into each other.  
Bruce pressed himself against Clark’s groin and he couldn’t help the whimper that escaped.  
  


“Bruce” the Super breathed into his mouth.  
It filled him with hot need.  
Bruce’s insides stirred at the sound of his name.  
As much as he wanted to climb all over the invulnerable man, it wasn’t possible.  
Oliver would be back any minute now.  
  


“Kal” Bruce breathed.  
The kiss became frenzied, hands moved with purpose and he ground his hips against the wall of heat furiously.  
Bruce was hard, and could tell Clark was too.  
The desire to just get naked and rub himself all over that perfect body overwhelmed him for a moment.  
His lips remained locked on Clark’s despite opening his mouth for air.  
The slide of them against the other made his heart race.  
Bruce didn’t want to stop.  
A flash of memory, back to the rooftop in Gotham and the feeling of Oliver in the background, assailed him.

Suddenly, that fiery heat was gone, and Bruce felt unbalanced.  
“Oliver” Clark whispered quietly.  
Bruce was facing away from the doorway, and tried to adjust himself.  
Clark was a few steps away, but still facing him.  
  


Clark had heard Oliver returning.  
He couldn’t miss it the way Ollie was whistling loudly.  
Suppressing a grin at the archers antics, he had taken two steps back and one to the side, to separate himself from Bruce.  
Looking at the hooded eyes, his breath hitched, as Bruce licked at reddened lips languidly.  
His cock jumped.  
That tongue had just been in his mouth, voluntarily!  
Movement made him look down as Bruce adjusted himself, shifting in his pants.  
Bruce caught him looking and slid his thumb up and down the length of his aroused cock, oh so slowly.

Clark growled low and deep in his throat.  
Oliver had stepped behind the bar and couldn’t see Bruce’s face.  
  


Bruce felt the rumble of Clark’s response.  
His cock jumped under his hand and his buttocks clenched together in an involuntary spasm.  
He tipped his head slightly back and traced a finger, from the hand not still stroking his needy dick, from his collarbone, up his neck, along the sharp edge of his jaw until it stroked his wet lips.

Clark’s eyes flashed crimson for a split second.  
If Bruce had blinked at the wrong moment, he would have missed it.  
“Kal” he subvocalised.

“Don’t, please B?” Clark hissed.

Bruce stood straight, pulled his shirt into place, and smoothed back his hair.  
He smirked at the still aroused Kryptonian in front of him.  
Deciding to have some fun with Clark tonight, he wondered how much flirting he could get away with, enjoying the flush on the corn fed reporter.

 

Clark made his excuse to leave, saying he needed to change into his suit.  
Bruce raised an eyebrow and made a snarky comment about super speed.  
Oliver laughed at the pair.  
The archer had asked to get ready in Bruce’s suite, knowing that the girls would be in full Ballroom Blitz mode.  
  


Ollie had been exceptionally noisy when returning with the gifts, he tried to give the pair as much time as he could, without being suspicious.  
He had glimpsed Clark’s flushed face when he moved to pour himself a drink.  
Bruce was obviously teasing the man, from the way the broad shoulders shifted.  
Oliver smirked.  
It seemed the Bat had truly forgiven Superman.  
Finally!

Oliver couldn’t help but wonder what the rest of the night had in store for the group.  
Thinking about Shayera’s space wine gifts, he figured it would be interesting if the stubborn constitution of the Batman was up for the challenge.  
Four glasses was bound to knock anyone’s socks off.  
Pushing down the maniacal giggles that threaten to leave his mouth, he approached Bruce to discuss a potential deal between Queen Industries and Wayne Enterprises.

 

*~*~*~*~*


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Bat ponders.
> 
> Superman takes things into his own hands.
> 
> Oliver is caught out by the Bat.
> 
> The Bat surely is a sucker for punishment.
> 
> The girls arrive dressed for the Gala.
> 
> What a night this is going to be!!
> 
> *~*~*~*~*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little extra, because you have all been so nice.  
> The actual Gala might be a little delayed.  
> This is supposed to tide you over for a while.
> 
> Short and teh sexy!
> 
> It’s only a short hiatus, I promise.
> 
> Off Topic Note: I finally saw Wonder Woman, hooray!  
> It hasn’t helped me find my Diana in my AU.  
> I figure I won’t force it, it will happen naturally.  
> So that’s why there aren’t a lot of Diana’s thoughts at the moment.
> 
> As always, enjoy!
> 
> *~*~*~*~*

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Chapter 24.5

Jealous Clark Arc 

Extra scene

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Oliver and Bruce spoke at some length about a business proposition.  
The deal would help locals in both their cities, and set a precedent for others to follow.  
The pair did not speak about Clark, despite Oliver itching to tease or dig.  
  
Bruce felt that heaviness inside him return as soon as Clark had left.  
A low level pulse behind his eyes made thinking of two things at once unusually difficult.  
After telling Ollie to help himself, he decided a hot shower would be of benefit.  
Oliver’s suit and kit were already in the suite.  
The girls had sent it up when they went to prepare themselves.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Bruce was in the shower, getting ready for the Gala.

He was also pondering recent events, and about the day he’d just had.  
It started off well enough, relaxing around the pool.  
The Football game had been entertaining, even if the Knights had lost.  
He grimaced, knowing that he had lost a few bets to Oliver and was expected to drink alien alcohol as his penalty.  
Then there had been Clark.  
Bruce had vented all his pent up frustration, unfairly, upon the man.  
It had taken some cajoling, from Oliver and Dinah, for him to try and rectify that situation.  
Unsurprisingly, Bruce didn’t talk much.  
There was an exchange between them, and the tension had settled.  
More words would need to be spoken, but that kiss on the balcony, the touches throughout the day, the change he felt inside, they all conspired to confuse the hell out of Bruce.  
It was working.  
He was definitely confused!

Bruce knew he had a habit of holding onto his anger.  
It was part of what made him Batman.  
And yes, Clark had messed with his plans in Gotham, but the cache had been intercepted by the Bat.  
The feeling of unfinished business returned when he thought about the smugglers attempt to distribute high powered weapons and ammunition in his city.  
Pushing that aside, for now, he continued to consider everything that had occurred, specifically Clark.

It also meant he didn’t have to dwell on Diana.

Bruce had admitted failure, out loud, of his own free will.  
That was extremely out of character for him.  
Bruce was never one to voice his perceived flaws.  
Injuries were weakness, and took him away from his job on the streets of Gotham.  
Feelings had never entered the equation before.

He’d known, even as he ripped into Clark, that things couldn’t have continued the way they were headed.  
Yes, he didn’t admit it to anyone, including himself, that Clark was the closest thing to a best friend he’d ever had.  
When did it change?  
Casting his mind back, he wasn’t able to pin point when they started getting close.

Their first meeting had been a disaster.  
It took a long time for the World’s Finest to establish a working relationship.  
Randomly, Clark had started visiting.  
No reason, just to have coffee or talk.  
At first, Batman resented the intrusion into his territory, upon his privacy.  
The Bat worked alone.  
Clark didn’t see the boundaries that Batman erected around his city, and around his person.  
Slowly, over an extended period of time, Bruce stopped fighting these encroachments and learned to work with the Kryptonian.

Once they got to know each other outside of the uniform, in civilian life, Bruce somehow managed to finally relax around an alien that could kill them all.  
They established a new pattern.  
Working back to back, they were the perfect foil to each other.  
Strength and tactics.  
Faith and paranoia.  
Heart and vengeance.  
Like Yin and Yang, they balanced.

All of this, Bruce had come to accept.  
It changed that one night at the Manor.  
Until that point, all the farm raised hero would talk about in regards to his love life, was Lois Lane.  
He’d chased after her as Clark Kent, even as she wooed him as Superman.  
Lois had never been able to reconcile the two.  
It wasn’t a problem for Bruce who was essentially; Batman, Brucie Wayne, and Bruce.

So what had changed for Superman, to turn the reporter’s views upside down, and initiate sex with Bruce that night?  
Batman was the World’s Greatest Detective, and he hadn’t seen any clues that the Boy Scout wanted more than friendship.  
Admittedly, he’d never looked for them either.  
He had been on the receiving end of SuperHugs, but so had the other members of the JL.  
No conversation had revealed any interest in men by the farmer’s son.

So what prompted the late night visit and willingness to breach that boundary of friendship by the Super?  
Bruce’s trip to Metropolis the next day, one of the most ill considered and reckless things he had done since becoming Batman, had resulted in more out of character activity by the Kryptonian.  
The trashed apartment, and subsequent teasing, made Bruce feel better at the time.  
Going to Metropolis had never truly been about petty revenge, there was a small degree of payback in the back of Bruce’s mind, but what had drawn him to immediately seek out Clark?  
What would he say to Clark about taking the Kryptonite to his apartment?  
That was a different conversation to sit down, and avoid, on another day.

Then there was the ‘incident’ in Gotham.  
Bruce truly believed he was under the influence of drugs at the time.  
While, yes, he was drugged, on three seperate occasions within a 12 hour period, he knew that he wouldn’t have responded if there had been no underlying interest on his part.

That brought up the question of when did he become interested in Clark?  
Brucie had been seen with beautiful men and women on his arm, but Clark knew he rarely slept with any of them.  
Bruce smirked at that remembered conversation.  
He pulled his focus back to thinking about when things changed.  
In Bruce’s opinion, he had never felt anything remotely resembling attraction to Superman, Kal-El or Clark Kent.

The Boy Scout had certainly acted out of character, in this Bruce was not alone.  
If you had asked Bruce, if the Kryptonian was capable of simply taking whatever was desired by the blue clad hero, the answer would have been a resounding No!

Back to the task at hand, Bruce considered the kiss on a Gotham rooftop.  
That was the first time Bruce had struggled with the knowledge that he wanted Clark.  
Kissing the solar powered champion of truth and justice had been incredible.  
Bruce was finally willing to admit that he’d enjoyed it, wanted it.

It was at this point, Bruce examined the fuzzy spot in his memory.  
He’d avoided and delayed the inevitable, not sure he’d like what he’d see.  
There were no such restrictions on him now.  
Closing his eyes for a moment, he waded through the fog in his mind.  
He remembered the injection clearly.  
Oliver and Clark had helped shield him from Dinah.  
As if a shadow passed through him, the memory of being in those invulnerable arms sprang forth.  
Yes, he had been changed from the BatSuit into civilian clothes.  
But it was the arms wrapped around his naked upper body that featured in his musings.

Bruce knows he had been dropping in and out of lucidity after the shot.  
Despite a vague recollection of Diana, Dinah, Alfred and Oliver heading downstairs, he struggled to get any further.  
There was a flash, his own arms reaching for the Boy Scout’s neck, of warm lips on his own.  
He shuddered.  
The pressing against a solid wall of muscle, of him moaning into that moist, velvet mouth.

Blood started flowing down to his groin, and he was half hard.  
Bruce had the sudden realisation that he had initiated a second kiss on that rooftop.  
No wonder Clark had been so confused and hurt.

As the water flowed down his body, he closed his eyes and rinsed his hair under the spray.  
Tipping his head back, the cascade of soap travelled over his skin and down towards the drain.  
While he stood there, he caught the edge of more images.  
They seemed to go in and out of focus.  
He was trying to crawl all over Clark on that rooftop.  
The shock at the sound of Oliver’s voice hadn’t stopped him.  
Oliver knew!!  
Dammit!  
The archer had been playing him.  
He was tempted to punch something.

Despite the anger that seemed to rise from within, he turned and leaned his arm against the tiles.  
He rested his head on his forearm and let the spray of water pound the tense muscles in his neck, across his shoulders, and his back.

A shot of heat surged through Bruce, as he slowly focussed on a picture in his mind, of being laid down, of his pants being pulled down, of indescribable heat on his cock.  
Clark had blown him on that roof.  
Fuck!  
Narrowly resisting the urge to bash his own brains in on the marble surface underneath his arm, he breathed deeply, draining his muscles of unexpected tightness.

Remembering that stunning fellacio was like opening the floodgates.  
Moments surfaced and sunk, letting him glimpse what had happened between himself and the reporter.  
Fastest blow job in history, he thought sarcastically to himself.  
Despite being sedated, he could have made a better showing of it.  
He smiled wryly.  
Done is done, he figured dwelling on it would be of no benefit.

The parlour, where he had fought with Alfred.  
He had tried to dismiss the others.  
Stubbornly refusing to take the second antidote, knowing full well that it contained pain relief and sedatives.  
They had forced it upon him, but he couldn’t begrudge their intentions.  
As much as he had every right to be angry, it seemed to just slip away, like the water curling down the drain of the shower.  
Alfred had told him of the unconscious reaction to Clark’s proximity.  
He knew he wouldn’t recollect any of that, so he didn’t try.

These strange symptoms he had been experiencing had well and truly set in by that point.  
Clark was the only thing that compensated for them, and helped him to feel better.  
He had initially been adamant about avoiding the conversation, and the addressing of whatever these unusual sensations implied.  
Feelings, Bruce harrumphed to himself.

It was then that the bedroom in the Manor, for the second time, came to mind so clearly.  
It felt like a jolt to his system.  
Bruce knew he had been compromised, instead of kicking the Boy Scout out of his home, in light of the breaches of trust that were committed, he had fucked him.  
But it was more than a simple fuck.  
Shaking his head, he couldn’t have lied to himself when he was still effected by drugs.  
He had wanted it.

Reaching down, he began a languid stroke on his now hard cock.  
How Clark had kissed him.  
The view Bruce had when preparing the Kryptonian.  
When Clark had finally lowered that muscled body onto his needy dick.

Bruce groaned and his hand sped up ever so slightly.  
He was licking his lips, the taste of Clark’s kisses seemed to linger in his mouth.  
A twist of his wrist at the end of his stroke had him panting slightly.  
“Clark” he whispered into the tiled space.  
It seemed to echo loudly in his ears.  
  


A gust of wind, and the fall of water from the shower was blocked out.  
Heat pressed against his back, and a voice answered in his ear, deep and husky.  
“Bruce.”  
Bruce inhaled in shock as another hand joined his on his straining erection.  
A hard cock pressed against his ass.  
Bruce moaned again, “Oh God, yes Clark!”  
A hot mouth covered his shoulder, moving up behind his ear, before suckling on his earlobe.  
Taking his own hand away, he thrust into that tight grip around his aching member.

Both hands rested on the wall of the shower now.  
Thankfully the open space was big enough for two large men.  
One hand was on his cock, the other wrapped under his arms and across his chest.  
He felt himself pulled against the chest at his back.  
Bruce’s thrusts were becoming more urgent as Kal licked up the back of his neck.  
Dropping his head forward, he stretched his arms as high on the wall as they would comfortably go, sliding up the wet tiles.  
He felt his balls clench, and a groan in his ear made his ass squeeze tight.

“Oh Rao, Bruce” was breathed into his ear, before Bruce managed to turn his head enough to take those lips.  
Clark’s tongue danced along the length of his own during the filthy open mouthed kiss.  
The heat he felt while his mouth was explored was mind blowing.  
His thrusts into the clenched fist were becoming frantic.  
“Kal” Bruce’s deep bass rumbled from inside his chest.

The tugging in his stomach was vibrating hard and fast, adding to the layer of pleasure that was building within.  
His mind was awash with colour and light, feeling more than just his own desire.  
Bruce wasn’t going to last.

Tearing his lips away from that lush mouth felt like betrayal.

Clarks length was pressed between his ass cheeks.  
The friction of it was delicious against his spasming hole.  
Bruce wanted it inside him.  
Looking around wildly, he realised the was no lube.  
He didn’t stop his hips from stuttering back and forth, into that perfect grip and back onto the seemingly solid cock.  
The Man of Steel lived up to his reputation.

“I’m… I can’t…” Bruce managed to stutter before Clark descended back into him.  
Lips barely touched, tongues began to slide against each other once more.  
The Kryptonian was able to do things with that appendage that no human could do.

When Kal released his mouth so he could get air in his lungs, he turned back to face the wall.  
A tongue licked the at the nape of his neck.  
Clark’s grinding against his ass threatened to push him through the wall, the arm around his chest was the only thing stopping him.  
He felt his bones creak, but the pressure was too good.  
If Clark stopped now, Bruce would bury him with a Kryptonite ball gag.

Clark arched his back and stretched Bruce’s body it’s full length.  
His fingers scrabbled against the slick surface in front, high up above his head, trying to find any purchase he could.  
That hand on his cock didn’t stop, didn’t change, it kept driving him towards the edge.  
Standing on his toes, he was nearly lifted from the floor.  
Clark’s face buried itself against him, a deep vibrating moan could be felt from that broad chest.  
Bruce was panting hard, each exhale released a whimper, getting louder and higher pitched as he felt the imminence of his orgasm.  
He felt it curling inside him, seeking blissful release.

“Are you ready?” Clark breathed against his skin.  
The Kryptonian didn’t wait for a response, the hand on his cock vibrated, the dick between the cheeks of his ass thrust.  
Bruce’s entire body tried to clench as he came with a hoarse cry.  
“Kal!”

As soon as the word left his lips, he felt Clark stiffen and shudder, releasing his seed on Bruce’s rear.  
The super’s hand didn’t stop, milking every last drop from him.  
His eyes tried to close as whiteness filled his vision.  
Every muscle in his body had tensed up with the force of his orgasm.  
Clark’s hand slowed, as Bruce twitched with overstimulation.  
He was grateful to be held up by those strong arms because he was certain his legs wouldn’t.

Clark nuzzled at him.  
His panting took a full minute to begin slowing down, back towards normal breathing, as he coasted down the remnants of his bliss.  
Bruce leaned his head against the wall with a thunk.  
He was completely wrung out.  
Gentle hands washed and rinsed him off.  
That strong arm remained around his chest until he could confidently stand on his own.

Bruce spun around and brushed his lips gently across Clark’s.  
They both smiled into the kiss.  
As much as they both wanted to stay against each other, naked flesh to naked flesh, they knew they couldn’t.

Clark stepped away from Bruce as he turned the water off in the shower.  
When he turned back, Clark was waiting, holding one of the hotel’s big fluffy towels out for him.  
Bruce stepped forward without hesitation and was wrapped tightly.  
Clark kissed Bruce’s forehead softly.  
“I have to go and get ready. You have to get ready. Oliver’s nearly done too.” Clark whispered.  
Brushing those heated lips against his damp skin, Clark stepped back.  
Crushing the urge to step forward, Bruce looked at the wet Kryptonian.  
Less than a second later, that muscled body was once again covered in the blue and red.  
The house shield shone under halogen lights.  
Nothing is as bright as Clark himself, Bruce thought.  
He didn’t shy away from it, instead watching the super walk backwards towards the door.  
Their eyes remained locked on each other until Clark was well beyond the doorway, and turned to open the sliding door of the balcony.

As Clark flew away, Bruce sighed.  
He was fucked, and he knew it.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

In the lounge room, Oliver was fixing his cuffs when he saw a flash of red speed away from the adjoining bedroom.  
He’d used the other bedroom, on the other side of the living area, to dress for the Gala.  
As he exited the bedroom, he’d heard the shout of Kal’s name distinctly.

Oliver smirked.  
The boys were definitely on their way to ‘something’ more.  
He was genuinely happy for the pair.

A few minutes later, Bruce entered the space.  
He had his pants on, but his shirt hung undone over his torso.  
Bruce didn’t have shoes on, only socks, and his tie was nowhere in sight.

Bruce flopped on the couch, dropping the shoes in his hand.  
His jacket was hanging off the back of a chair in the dining area.  
When Bruce looked up at Oliver, the archer smirked.

“How long?” was all Bruce said.

“Gotham” Ollie replied as the smirk stretched into a giant grin.  
  


“Fuck” Bruce said, without any real heat.  
A smile tickled the corner of his mouth, at least Oliver didn’t seem to be judging him.  
Not that he had room in that quarter.  
Bruce still hadn’t mentioned the Car Incident.  
Keeping his ace in reserve, he bent to put on his shoes just as the door bell rang.

Bruce’s hands stopped and his head dropped to his knees.  
He’d forgotten.  
He’d forgotten about the girls.  
About Diana.  
A groan escaped him.

Oliver clapped him on the shoulder on his way to open the door.  
“Come on champ, let’s get this over with.  
Do you want me to talk to Diana with you?”

“No” Bruce answered in a rush.  
“No one is to know Oliver.”

The archer stood before the door and raised his eyebrows at the Gothamite.  
“You really are a sucker for punishment.” was all he said before he opened the door.

“Girls” the blonde man welcomed.

Bruce, now wearing his shoes, stood up and walked back to his room, buttoning up his shirt as he went.  
“I’ll be 10 minutes” he called.  
  


“You take longer than us women” Dinah called to the retreating back, as she handed two bottles of prettily wrapped wine to Oliver, along with a kiss on his cheek.

Diana looked at her friend.  
Shrugging her shoulders, Dinah said “We’ll be on our way soon Di.  
It’s going to be a great night.”

Oliver snorted, and when the women turned to look at him, he was the picture of innocence.  
Holding the two bottles up, he added “We will definitely need these tonight”

All three of them dissolved into giggles.

 

*~*~*~*~*


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the Gala!
> 
> Has the Bat let his guard down at last?  
> Or he creating more problems for himself, again?
> 
> Will Clark be able to hold on to his Bat?  
> Can the farm boy keep up with Bruce's changing personas, or will Brucie Wayne spoil everything?
> 
> Diana is not going to take no for an answer.  
> She will run the gauntlet of emotions but she's a fighter!
> 
> Dinah and Oliver pay the price for foolishness.  
> You can't hide anything from the Bat.
> 
> Let the shenanigans begin!
> 
> And finally, the Space Wine is opened.
> 
> *~*~*~*~*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, I want to apologise for the delay.
> 
> I had a wonderful time helping with Beta work for SBB, and how strong the community within this fandom really is.  
> Through hard work, I learnt so much.  
> I hope this will start to show through in my story.
> 
> Secondly, thankyou to everyone that continued to comment.  
> You reminded me that you like my story, even when I doubted myself.  
> Every single comment and kudos keeps me going.
> 
> Thirdly, to the StarDust group.  
> You are all amazing people.  
> When I started to struggle, you lifted me up.  
> Words can never express my gratitude.
> 
> Fourth, a cheque here is a check in the US.  
> There are a few words here and there that still won't match up due to regional differences.  
> If there's any confusion, please feel free to ask?
> 
> Finally, I really struggled to pick up after such a long break.
> 
> I missed my story. It's like we broke up and it wasn't returning my texts.
> 
> Honestly, I can't say I'm happy with the chapter but I need to start moving forward again.
> 
> Experiencing my first ever stumbling point on my journey in writing was a little scary and overwhelming at times, but it is with the support of an amazing community that I kept going.  
> Sometimes it was as simple as Sprinting with the SBB group, others it was long conversations with caring people who gave me back my perspective.
> 
> Overall, this break has been hard, amazing, tiring, exceptional, taxing, uplifting, rewarding, educational and emotional on so many levels.
> 
> And, as always, Enjoy!  
> BatS
> 
>  
> 
> *~*~*~*~*

*~*~*~*~*

Chapter 25

The Gala Interlude  
or  
The Jealous Clark Arc

Part 6

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Clark arrived back at his hotel and flopped on the bed.  
Thoughts of Bruce crowded his mind.

When he had returned, after the fireworks, he had attempted to write more for his article.  
The charity ball was raising money for a local hospital, and deserved to be written properly.  
Then he heard his name.  
“Clark” had been the whisper of Bruce’s voice.

Clark hadn’t thought twice.  
He moved at top speed, entered the suite, stripped down, and joined Bruce in the shower.  
Clark couldn’t resist Bruce, that voice, the increased heart rate, the pulsing in his gut.

His body tingled, remembering what had happened a mere 15 minutes ago.

Now, back in the hotel room, he was staring at the blinking cursor.  
Words weren’t forthcoming.  
He was a combination of being blissed out, and terror at potentially overstepping Bruce’s comfort zone, again.  
There was an underlying sense of ‘I hope I didn’t just screw things up’.  
  


“Friends” Bruce had said at the carnival.  
When Bruce leaned in, had whispered his name; “Kal”, he lit up inside like a Christmas tree.  
Bruce told him they would work it out, together.  
As usual, Bruce was always a man of very few words, not a lot was spoken between them.  
Actual words weren’t needed.

From that point, the day had been wonderful.  
Clark felt the change in Bruce, the loosening up of all the tension.  
The pair had genuinely enjoyed each other’s company.  
Equilibrium had been re-established.  
The Kryptonian felt it.  
No matter what happened, they would always be friends.  
It had given Clark confidence.

He was also pretty sure Bruce could feel some of the strange symptoms, the ones Clark had been experiencing.  
There was a connection between them.  
They hadn’t stopped touching each other, leaning on each other and holding hands when no one was looking.  
Clark’s heart gave a lurch of hope.  
He had told Bruce twice now, said the words “I love you”.

They had been friends for years.  
It was natural for their bond of friendship to deepen, and grow over time.  
He still didn’t know what had come over him, on that first night at the Manor.

Clark closed his eyes and remembered the kiss on the balcony of the penthouse, when Oliver had gone inside the suite.  
Bruce had moved towards him of his own free will.  
Clark had to believe, with no drugs to blame, Bruce genuinely wanted it.  
Wanted him.

A grin split his face.  
Whatever it was that going on between them, right now, he honestly didn’t care.  
Clark felt happy.  
It bubbled up inside him, the pull of Bruce seemed to vibrate in his gut, and he wanted to fly around the world, to carol and shout, to express his joy to everyone.

Looking at the time, knowing he couldn’t just settle this intense feeling, he wanted to experience it.

Once again, he shot out of the window, and gave in to sensation overload.

He flew.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

The suite was alive with voices.  
Bruce could hear them nattering away behind the door.  
As he continued to get ready, an unexpected feeling of pure happiness swept over him.  
His hands stilled for a moment, and he closed his eyes.  
A smile blossomed on his face as he felt lifted.  
His spirit soared.  
The unusual tension in his stomach seemed to sing, and the pressure behind his eyes was wrapping him in a feeling of freedom.  
He pondered for a moment, thinking about the shared sensations from the fair, was Clark flying?

This strange new connection they shared was more than a little disconcerting.  
However, Bruce couldn’t feel anything except the ecstatic hope that filled him.

Bruce didn’t fight these feelings.  
As much as it was unusual for him, he didn’t try to dissect them or chase down the unknown, he simply opened himself up and welcomed them.

The warmth filled the cold spaces of his heart.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

As Diana and Dinah made their preparations to attend the Charity Gala, Dinah had spoken at length about flirting.  
Personally, Diana agreed with Dinah’s point; that being stand-offish to Bruce wouldn’t work.  
Dinah had coached her on eye contact, and the importance keeping the conversation going in the direction Diana wanted.  
She didn’t understand the ‘fiddling with hair’ that the Black Canary had tried to explain, so she would stick to the basics, and what felt right.  
Diana was going to work towards maintaining some form of contact.  
Whether it be a hand on his arm, or their legs brushing when they sat.

Diana was also contemplating Clark’s appearance at the carnival.  
Dinah had explained how Bruce had verbally eviscerated the Kryptonian once again, but at the couple’s suggestion, Bruce made amends with Clark.  
She understood Bruce’s initial reaction, Kal had interrupted an important mission. She also knew that dwelling on it would achieve nothing.  
Team dynamics couldn’t afford be disrupted on the battlefield.

Diana was of the opinion that Bruce would never let a personal issue interfere with his work, but it didn’t matter now.  
The situation has been resolved.  
She still couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more going on between the two men.  
An instinct flared whenever they were together.  
As Dinah had explained the group’s activities throughout the day, she felt a knot form in her stomach.

Diana remembered that morning in the parlour; Bruce had reacted subconsciously to herself and Kal in such polar opposite ways.  
She had been thinking on it for the intervening days, without coming to a reasonable explanation.  
Diana was going to keep an eye on how the two men interacted this evening.  
Perhaps that would tell her more.  
Meanwhile, she was set to enjoy herself in Bruce’s company.  
  


As they entered the penthouse suite, Diana had caught a glimpse of Bruce returning to his room to finish dressing.  
His presence always made Diana’s heart gallop.  
It had taken the Amazon a while to identify these feelings inside her.  
When she had first approached Bruce, he seemed to push her away.  
It was only at Dinah’s insistence, how the big bad Bat pushed everyone away, that Diana was encouraged to pursue Bruce.

She sat in he suite with Dinah and Oliver, listening to the pair explain about the wine. A gift from Shayera.  
Diana felt self conscious for a moment, for not having a gift for them, but then she thought of an item that would be perfect.  
It was from Themyscira, and was a potent aphrodisiac.  
She would pick it up when she visited home in the next few days.  
Diana grinned to herself.  
She might pick up a little for herself too.  
A small spark of hope fired inside her, maybe after tonight, she would have someone to enjoy the experience with.

Just as that thought crossed her mind, the door to Bruce’s room opened.  
Her breath hitched as she saw him fully dressed in his tuxedo sans jacket.  
His hair was slicked back and golden cufflinks glinted in the light.  
Once Bruce donned his jacket, they were ready to go.  
She couldn’t help the smile on her face when he held his arm out, and she wrapped her hand through his elbow.

 

Behind the pair, Dinah grinned but Oliver was uncomfortable.  
He could understand Bruce’s need for secrecy but at the same time, he felt Diana should be given an indication that Bruce wasn’t interested in her romantically.  
The look on Diana’s face was pure infatuation.  
Ollie shook his head.  
This wouldn’t end well unless Bruce was more honest with the Amazonian.

Dinah gave him a questioning look, but he simply shrugged his shoulders and collected the wine.

The foursome headed for the elevator, all with varying degrees of emotions about the upcoming evening.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Bruce entered the large foyer of the hotel where the Charity Gala was being held.  
His room was upstairs in the same establishment, so there was no requirement for a car.  
Diana had a good grip on his arm as the crowd hushed.  
Dinah and Oliver were right behind them.

Flashbulbs went off, and the double daters smiled for the cameras.  
Questions were thrown at them, but simply ignored in favor of a few waves, and a photo op of Diana kissing Bruce’s cheek.  
It felt awkward to Bruce.  
Diana was stunning, as was Dinah.  
He and Oliver were in top of the line tuxedos.

However, Bruce couldn’t help looking in the throng of media representatives for a cheap suit and unnecessary spectacles hiding blue eyes.  
Although he couldn’t see the reporter, he knew Clark was nearby.  
Almost as if he could sense the Kryptonian’s presence.  
He didn’t want to ponder the implications of that right now.  
Just knowing Clark was close at hand calmed him.  
Bruce began to relax.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

The event started, as they all do, slow and stuffy.  
Speeches were made, comical oversized cheques were handed over, and the children’s hospital came out the winner.

Oliver sat next to Bruce, who was seated next to Victor and Barry.  
All the major contributors were on the stage.  
Flash and Cyborg were presenting the cheque for the funds raised at the dunking booth, as part of the publicity for the charity.

Oliver watched from the corner of his eye, he could see Bruce searching the crowd for a baggy suited reporter.  
Smirking, Ollie knew there was no better time to tease the normally stoic Bat.

“So, it’s a ‘Super’ night, eh Brucie?” he asked.  
Bruce rolled his eyes.

Oliver giggled behind his hand.  
“You’re positively glowing since your shower.”

The Gothamite narrowed his eyes at the archer.  
  


Down in the crowd, Clark grimaced.  
When had Oliver let on to Bruce that there was more than friendship between himself and The Bat?  
He hoped Oliver wouldn’t tease Bruce too much.  
Clark still felt his spirits soaring after his flight.  
  


Bruce looked over at the Star City resident.  
“I’m warning you Oliver” he grumbled quietly.

Cyborg and Flash knew something was going on, but had no clue as to what.  
They were staying out of it, keeping their smiling faces towards the speaker.

Bruce tried to ignore the blonde man and turned his focus back to the podium.

Oliver held back the laughter threatening his composure.  
“Pulling a Captain Kirk I see. Boldly coming where no man has ever before"

“How about you eat a buffet of dicks.” the handsome billionaire growled.

“That’s rich, coming from a man who seems to be developing a taste for the out of this world exotic.” Oliver cackled quietly.  
  


That was it. Bruce had enough.  
Oliver wasn’t going let up, and was bound to keep making comments all night.  
It’s not as if Bruce wanted to stay around for the final speeches and thankyous, but he was obligated.

“Stay” he subvocalized to Clark, knowing the super would hear him.  
He was going kill two birds with one stone.  
It had been a while since Brucie’s shenanigans shocked a crowd, and now was as good a time as any.  
He leapt from his seat and whirled on Oliver.  
  


Oliver looked up at the narrowed eyes, saw the smirk on Bruce’s face, and thought ‘Oh shit’.

“My Car” Bruce roared.  
Oliver went as white as a ghost.  
“Oh shit” he squeaked out in a high pitch.

Bruce lept forward and crash tackled Oliver off the back of the stage, taking out the backdrop.  
They landed in a loud crash and the crowd gasped.  
  


Clark had moved to join Dinah and Diana.  
Dinah had paled at Bruce’s shout.

“Should we intervene?” Diana asked.

Clark just shook his head.  
“I was told to stay, so I figure he’s up to his ‘Brucie’ antics again.”

Dinah looked from the flailing figures to Diana and Clark, opening her mouth to speak but no words came out.  
  


“B…. Brucie” Oliver tried to say, but the air was knocked out of him.  
Internally, he was freaking out.  
Although he knew Bruce wouldn’t take revenge here at the Gala, he also knew that the Bat wouldn’t just let the Incident go.  
“How.. much.. do you… know?” he huffed.

Bruce just smirked.  
Oliver began to panic ‘oh shit’ he thought again.  
  


Flash and Cyborg joined the fray and pulled the billionaires apart.  
Bruce let them.  
Maybe now Oliver would shut the Hell up about Clark.

Looking to the side, he saw Clark with a small smile on that handsome face.  
Straightening his clothes, he flashed a grin at the reporter, before returning to the stage to finalize the cheque presentations.

Oliver didn’t say another word.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

It was a bit awkward after the ceremony.  
Oliver wouldn’t look at Bruce, and Dinah was keeping her distance.  
Diana simply raised an eyebrow in question.  
Clark was also curious.  
Bruce smirked.

“So” Bruce began “When were you going to own up about the car?”

Both Oliver and Dinah paled considerably.  
  


“What is going on?” Diana asked.  
Not much phased the Star City duo, but Bruce definitely had them rattled.

“We… er… it’s just…” Dinah stuttered.  
Dinah rarely stuttered.  
Diana looked at her friend.  
There was a flash of fear in her eyes.  
Diana looked towards Oliver, who was in much the same state, gulping down a drink from a passing tray.  
  


Clark watched the small group, but he couldn’t pick out any cues as to what was going on.

Bruce tilted his head to indicate the terrified pair.  
“These two were asked by Alfred to help recover the ‘black vehicle’ while I was indisposed”

Clark blushed at the memory. Indisposed indeed.  
  


Bruce’s lips quirked when he saw the reporter’s pinked cheeks.  
Did Clark always look so cute when he blushed?  
  


Diana was watching everyone carefully.  
Clark’s flushed demeanor was seemingly out of place.  
She frowned to herself, and the feeling that she was missing something obvious crossed her mind once more.  
She looked from Dinah and Oliver, back to Bruce.  
“Was there a problem?” she asked.

Bruce nodded.  
“You could say that.”

Oliver started talking rapidly.  
“We didn’t mean any harm by it Bruce.  
I mean, come on, who wouldn’t want to take advantage of driving that sexy car?

Dinah nodded her head in agreement.  
  


Clark wanted to groan.  
What had the two of them done now?  
  


Diana just stood, trying to be patient, in the hope that one of them would explain.

It was Bruce who spoke next.  
“It seems that these two numbskulls thought it would be fun to go driving around Gotham City, in daylight, in my ‘evening’ car.”  
He crossed his arms and gave them a glare.

Oliver and Dinah wilted under his gaze.

Clark groaned.  
“Seriously Ollie? And Dinah, you too?”

Diana rolled her eyes.  
“And what did they do that was so bad, it warranted a scene?”

“The better question is; what didn’t they do.” Bruce replied caustically.  
“Although the subject will be dropped for now, don’t delude yourselves into thinking it is forgotten.  
Alfred is not expected to deal with that scrape along the side.”

Oliver and Dinah bobbed their head in agreement, however they kept their mouths firmly shut.

Diana and Clark looked at each other.  
“Scrape?” Clark mouthed the word.  
Diana’s shoulders lifted, she was in the dark about the details too.

 

It was then that the doors of the ballroom folded back, doubling the space for the guests.  
A buffet was spread out against one wall, loaded with all sorts of delicacies, and a fleet servers came through with trays of glasses of champagne.

A toast was called on behalf of the charity, and the party began.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Clark left his fellow Leaguers to join the other journalists reporting on the event.  
As he merged into the small gathering, listening to the gossip flying, he looked over at Bruce’s broad back.   
He smiled to himself at Brucie’s performance and made a note to mention it in his article.   
Clark might not be able to give the readers the full story behind it, but a little extra teasing of his friends wouldn’t hurt.   
Bruce might get a kick out of it, and it would reinforce the Bat’s secret identity.

Clark listened with half an ear and watched the crowd gather around Bruce.

Socialites and businessmen alike all vied for the Wayne heir’s attention.  
Clark tried not to be jealous, but recognized the feelings within himself when Diana moved at Bruce’s side.  
He also felt a small degree of guilt.   
Diana didn’t deserve to be hurt.   
He wasn’t sure what Bruce’s plans with her entailed.   
It’s not like either of the men could explain what was going on between them, not when they didn’t know themselves.

Clark still needed to have a conversation with Bruce about it.  
The desire to identify the growing depth of closeness between them was strong.  
Whatever this thing was, he felt happy.  
Hearing Bruce’s laughter at a lame joke made him smile.  
On the rare occasions, they had attended the same function in the past, the pair would enjoy disparaging the inane chatter.  
Clark knew that he had always welcomed Bruce’s company, but it didn’t explain this new development between them.

Glancing over, he caught Bruce looking at him. The billionaire gave him a subtle wink before turning back to the hangers on.  
Clark felt his face heat up.  
He had a suspicion that Bruce was going to tease him all night.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Diana had coaxed Bruce onto the dance floor.  
A slow classical number played and the pair drew a lot of attention.  
Diana was as close to Bruce as propriety would allow.

“So, Bruce” Diana begun “I have been looking forward to our date for quite some time.”  
As she looked into his eyes, she couldn’t help but notice that steel blue gaze flickering around the room.

“Bruce, while I am sure that noting all the exits and windows are part of your regular procedure, with so many of us in attendance, can’t you can let your guard down for one night?” She gave him a gentle smile.

Bruce smiled at her, and she felt butterflies take flight inside her belly.  
“Perhaps you’re right.  
I don’t get the opportunity in Gotham.  
And I am obligated to drink some of Oliver’s special wine tonight.  
Did they tell you about it?”

Diana nodded affirmative.  
“So perhaps you might allow yourself to have some fun for a change?”  
Diana was hopeful that if Bruce let his defenses far enough down, she would get an opportunity to make her case for more than friendship between them.

“It depends on a lot of variables Diana.” Bruce murmured.

Diana lowered her voice to a husky whisper.  
“And what of the variables of you and I?” she asked.

“What Diana?  
You are a Princess of Themyscira, one of the most beautiful women on the planet.  
But you have to understand that I’m a rich kid, with issues, lots of issues.  
I’m flattered that you are showing an interest in me but…” the sentence trailed off with an elegant shrug of broad shoulders.

Diana saw Bruce’s eyes sweep the room again.  
A spark ignited in the very depths of them as they paused briefly.  
She turned her head to see, but Bruce spun her around as part of the dance.

Taking a breath that didn’t seem to fill her lungs, she was determined not to give up.  
“Bruce, you can’t know what will or won’t happen in the future.”

Bruce smirked at her statement.  
“My job is to plan for the future, Princess.  
If I can’t predict an outcome, I make contingencies.”

She frowned for a moment.  
Steeling her resolve, Diana leaned in and could smell the light cologne Bruce wore.  
“What would your contingency be if I were to kiss you?”

Bruce hummed, which sent a shiver up her spine.  
Diana was then whirled in a full circle, which ended with Bruce standing beside her, taking her arm and walking towards the edge of the dance floor.  
“Let’s not ruin your good reputation with that kind of conjecture.”  
He was graceful in his movements, but Diana felt stymied.

As they approached the crowd, Diana grimaced at the ‘vultures’ moving towards them with purpose.  
The ‘Brucie Wayne Fan Club’ was out in full force.  
They were peppered with questions, which Bruce seemed to laugh off.  
Moving through the crowd with ease, the pair approached Dinah and Oliver at a table.  
Despite looking like they still wanted to bolt, the two blondes smiled up at them.

Diana sat adjacent to Dinah, who reached for her hand and leaned it with a whispered “Well?”  
The Amazonian shook her head in the negative, trying not to look disappointed.  
Dinah squeezed her hand, “The night is still young” she was reassured by her friend.

Diana wasn’t so confident.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Clark lingered around the steps down into the ballroom.  
From this position, he could see the entirety of the room without using any powers.  
He tried to concentrate on his job, but his attention was drawn by Bruce, dancing with Diana.  
Super hearing narrowed down to listen to the pair.  
His heart had skipped a beat when Diana asked what Bruce would do if she gave him a kiss, and he collided with a nearby indoor palm.

Stares and giggles were thrown his way as he righted the greenery, and dusted himself off.  
He was lucky he hadn’t broken the poor shrubbery, and it’s ornamental pot.

Clark really wished that Bruce could stop with the games for one night.  
He knew he wouldn’t be out on the dance floor, with Bruce in his arms, no matter how much he might wish it so.  
It didn’t stop him from wanting to be closer to the man.

 

The night progressed at a crawl.  
It seemed to take forever for the guests to eat, and the dining tables to be cleared away, replaced by a range of comfortable seating.  
The buffet was removed and sectional lounges were rolled out.  
The atmosphere changed as the music picked up.  
Clark looked over to where Bruce was sitting with Oliver, Dinah and Diana.  
A smile quirked his lips as he found the billionaire’s eyes staring at him.  
Diana touched his arm and he looked away.  
Why did Clark feel a sense of loss?

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Oliver had wasted no time filling Bruce’s champagne flute with the sparkling amber wine, gifted by Shayera.

It was a little sweet for Bruce’s tastes, but not unpleasant.  
The aroma was difficult to place, and considering it was not of earthly origin, that wasn’t surprising.  
The taste contained hints, of what Bruce could only describe as, creamy citrus mixed with pomegranate, finishing with a flavor that subtly reminded him of Clark, like sunshine.  
His eyes wandered the room, seeking out the Metropolis based reporter every time his thoughts turned to the Man of Steel.

Clark looked great.  
His suit wasn’t a designer brand, and was a little baggy.  
It made his frame look bulky, but the midnight blue was a nice change to the all black of the menfolk.  
Women were in all shades of the rainbow.  
The satins and silks rustled and shifted, reflecting the subdued lighting of the chandeliers.

Bruce rubbed at his temple.  
A dull throb had started as soon as Diana had latched onto him in the elevator.  
Her grip was sure and firm, she wasn’t letting go anytime soon.  
He laughed and smiled as he greeted, and was welcomed in turn, by familiar faces.  
Most of the socialite set were well known to Bruce.  
The pain behind his eyes increased, and he struggled not to squint against the lights.  
Every time Bruce caught sight of Clark across the room, the throbbing in his skull seemed to settle momentarily.

Taking another sip of the ‘Space Wine’, as the group had been referring to it, he hoped that the headache would ease completely.  
Normally he would avoid alcohol, especially if he wasn’t at the top of his game, he was hopeful that the ‘space wine’ would be an exception.  
  


Oliver was pouring the second round for everyone.  
Diana had begged off the first time, sticking to sparkling water.  
Fishing in his pocket, he found the coat check tag that he had been given when he left the second bottle, still neatly wrapped, safely with the staff.  
Reassured that it was there, he topped off Bruce’s drink with the last of the drops.  
Between them all, they finished the first magnum sized bottle.  
  


Two glasses in, Bruce felt the flush of the alcohol in his system.  
There was a loosening of his muscles, and an easy grin on his face.  
It was a rare opportunity to relax.  
The warmth of his flush only increased every time he saw Clark.  
The pulling sensation inside wanted to drag him towards the Kansas raised hero.  
Bruce wished he could just give in to it, to move next to the warmth that emanated from the tall man. Diana’s hand kept him rooted to the spot.

Bruce knew that Diana was hoping for a lot more from the night, and he needed to lower her expectations. Her conversation on the dance floor set off internal alarms.  
What could he say to the Amazonian princess?  
He didn’t have the words to describe what was happening between himself and Clark. He didn’t know in his own mind.  
Pondering the situation, he let his focus fall on those that had gathered around him.  
Time to let Brucie out to play, he thought to himself.

 

*~*~*~*~*


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Gala continues.
> 
> Brucie plays.  
> Diana endures, with help.
> 
> An unexpected opportunity for intel has consequences.
> 
> Diana takes a chance.  
> Clark reacts.  
> Bruce drinks.
> 
> Dinah stands by her friend.  
> Oliver is caught in the middle.
> 
> A moment of respite for our two heroes, but how long can this go on for?
> 
> *~*~*~*~*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, there are many people to thank.  
> You know who you are.  
> Gratitude.
> 
> Many thanks also to those that comment.  
> Writers thrive on comments and kudos.  
> If you feel awkward adding a comment, click that kudos button on all the different stories you enjoy.  
> It makes a big difference to us, and encourages us to keep going.
> 
> Again, I don't have a Beta reader, so all mistakes are my own.
> 
> I hope you enjoy.
> 
> *~*~*~*~*

*~*~*~*~*

Chapter 26

The Gala Interlude  
or  
The Jealous Clark Arc

Part 7

*~*~*~*~*

A group of Gotham’s upper crust had ventured out of their city for the charity.  
People were eager to be seen in the company of Bruce Wayne.  
As they approached, Bruce reminded himself that their presence here boosted the fund raising for a good cause, and he mustered up his famous brilliant smile.

“Bruce” one of the women called, stretching her hand towards him.

“Xenia” he said, as he pressed a light kiss to the back of her hand.

The strong perfume was overwhelming, and he experienced a moment of dizziness as he stood up.  
The scent made the full feeling in his head throb painfully for a moment.

“Looking radiant as usual.”

The woman in question blushed, and leaned in to kiss his cheek.  
Crushing the strong urge to move away, he allowed the kiss.

“You never returned my calls.” She whispered into his ear.

“I thought your husband might think poorly of me.” he replied, as he felt Diana’s strong fingers dig into his arm.    
There was a definite feeling of bile rising in his throat, at being surrounded by the tittering women.  
The tension in his stomach was a painful lurch. His eyes flickered through the crowd, looking for Clark.

It was as if there was an inbuilt Kryptonian radar within him now.     
The tugging in this gut always seemed to pull him in the boy scout’s direction.   
As he located the tall reporter, Bruce felt himself grounded once more.

Xenia gave a small laugh, obviously not impressed with his answer.

Next to Xenia was someone Bruce tried to avoid at all functions.

The woman was a menace.    
Recently divorced from husband number four and on the verge of stalking Bruce, sights set on him as number five.    
He shuddered slightly as the highly botoxed face came closer for a kiss, as Xenia had done.    
His mind drifted to the comfort of restraining orders as he was kissed once more.

“Brucie” the gold digger purred, letting a long painted fingernail trace down his shirt, below his bow tie, between the lapels of his jacket.  
“I haven’t had a chance to speak with you in simply ages darling.”

“Good evening Cecelia, I see the assassins have failed again.” Bruce let a deliberate drunken slur creep into his voice.

“Oh Brucie” Cecelia slapped his arm lightly “always with the jokes.”  
The scantily clad woman turned towards Diana.  
“And who is the lucky lady? For tonight at least.”

Bruce could swear he heard Diana grind her teeth.

“Oh come now Cec, with your looks? Maybe bitchy isn’t the way to go.” Bruce patted Diana’s hand as he put Cecelia back in her place.  
“This is Princess Diana, daughter of Queen Hippolyta, and Diplomat from Themyscira. Perhaps you don’t recognize her out of her uniform?”

Diana put her hand over her mouth to hide a grin, as gauche woman looked more closely.

“You’re… you’re Wonder Woman?” Cecelia asked in a high pitched squeaky voice.

Diana graciously nodded.  
“Yes, but as I’m not wearing my Justice League uniform, you may address me as Your Highness.”

Bruce barked out a laugh as Cecelia took a step backwards.

“Of course, your… Your Highness” the words came out spitefully, despite the heavily made up eyes widening.

The crowd started giggling and Cecelia whirled, a glowering hatred was levelled at the group.  
Turning back, the serial divorcee gritted “Yes, well I think I see Rupert over there and I simply must say hello.  If you’ll excuse me?”

As the woman stomped off, open laughter followed her.

The gathered crowd before them looked at Diana with new appreciation.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Clark joined Oliver and Dinah.  
The couple happily included him in their conversation, but all eyes were on Bruce, Diana, and the court they were holding nearby.  
When Clark laughed, the pair looked at him in question.  
He explained what had just happened and the pair of vigilantes nearly cried their tears.  
Clark thought they might be relieved The Bat had another target, for now.  
He knew they were dreading the repercussions of their rash actions.

“So what prompted you to do such a reckless thing?” he asked the pair.

When Oliver raised his eyebrow in question, Clark just shook his head at the poor acting.  
They all knew Ollie capable of performing much better, it seemed the archer wasn’t really trying.  
“The joyriding?” Clark queried.

Dinah looked down into her drink, and Oliver cleared his throat.

“It seemed like a good idea at the time” the archer replied lowly.

Clark laughed again.  
“You didn’t think he’d find out?”

Dinah looked up at Clark, and winked.  
“Still worth it” she whispered.

Oliver’s head tilted to the side.  
“We’ll see after we face disciplinary action, Little Bird.”

Dinah just punched Oliver lightly on the arm.  
“You can’t tell me that you didn’t love it” she grinned.

Oliver looked sheepish as he answered.  
“I’m not saying I didn’t love it, I’m just a little worried about what the Wrath will entail.”

Clark just smiled at the pair.

“What’s happening now?” Oliver asked, changing the subject.

Clark focused his hearing once more.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

A little later.

 

Bruce felt light headed.  
Two glasses in, and he was feeling very good indeed.  
The ‘Space Wine’ seemed to soothe his unsettled stomach.    
The strange tension eased, and he was grateful.    
Diana was resting her arm in the crook of his elbow.  
The crowd of admirers was an ever changing mixture of colours.

Bruce’s gaze was caught by a bright yellow dress at the edge of the group.

As he turned his head towards the colourfully dressed woman, his attention was stolen by Clark.

The Metropolis based reporter was standing side on, interviewing a well known banker.

Bruce suspected the guy had connections to the mob in Gotham.   
He avoided approaching the pair locked in conversation, due to his diminished state.  
Grimacing slightly, he reminded himself that this was one of the many reasons he didn’t allow himself to drink at these sorts of event.

Diana jostled him to get his attention.  
She was frowning at the expression on his face.   
Bruce felt contrite immediately, he really wanted his friend to have a good night.  
He levelled a brilliant smile at her, to reassure her that all was well.

Leaning in, he whispered in her ear.   
“With apologies Princess, I need a favour.    
Can you to play along for a moment?  
Is that alright with you?” he asked.  
  


Diana nodded her head.    
The closeness of Bruce, the brush of air against her skin, she has no doubt she would do anything Bruce asked of her.

“What do you need?” she breathed quietly.

“Clark is talking to one of my suspects.    
Can you be my eyes?  
Once I have the boy scout’s attention, I’ll have him ask some questions.  
I would do it myself, however I am compromised by drinking alcohol, and I didn’t expect this scenario to arise tonight.  
I need to you to watch for the reactions Clark will signal in response.” his voice murmured, sending shivers down her spine.

Bruce leaned back and looked into her eyes for confirmation once more.  
Diana gave a shallow nod of her head, trying not to drown in those steel blue pools.

Bruce gathered Diana into his arms, and that handsome face resumed position near her ear.    
Long dark hair hid his lips from sight.    
To anyone looking, he was indulging in a private conversation.    
Diana’s heart sped up again.  
The pair turned slightly so that Clark was in her line of vision, and Bruce was facing away.

“First, Princess, you need to relax and smile.    
Pretend I am whispering sweet nothings in your ear, or telling you some long drawn out story.  
I need you to keep an eye on our reporter friend.    
Clark will be able to hear me without assistance, and if he pulls at his ear right now, I’ll know we have his attention from mentioning his name.”

When Bruce said the words ‘sweet nothings’ Diana felt a tremor inside her.  
How she wished it was true.    
She easily put a dreamy smile on her face, imagining for a moment what kind of sweet nothings Bruce would whisper to her.

Clark was in her direct line of sight and she noted that he responded to Bruce’s words.  
It made her wonder if Kal had listened to them throughout the evening.  
She tried not to think about those implications.   
Instead, she revelled in the way Bruce’s arms were wrapped around her.  
  
  
Nearby, Clark had indeed heard his name and listened to the conversation between Bruce and Diana.    
He reached up and scratched at his ear and heard Diana pass on the seen action.  
He quickly scanned the banker, and was relieved to find no weapons or wiretaps on the man.   
Keeping the flow of generic questioning going, he listened for Bruce’s next instructions.

 

What followed was unusual by anyone’s standards.   
Bruce would whisper a question, directed at Clark, to Diana.  
Clark would make a note of the answer, and tap his pen against the notebook in his hand to indicate when he was ready for Bruce’s next question.

The banker got more and more agitated by the questions, as they probed into shady dealings.  
Clark was non confrontational, restructuring Bruce’s questions to seem less pointed.   
Eventually, the queries became more specific and the banker would lie.  
Clark knew this because of his powers.    
He would mark a symbol on his notes and deflect any animosity the man started to feel by deviating to more sedate questioning.

Part of Clark couldn’t help feeling anxious about the way Diana was snuggled into Bruce’s arms.    
He tried to tell himself it was related to the Bat’s work, but she looked so happy.  
Clark was getting genuinely concerned.  
Every time he saw the pair together, his gut clenched almost painfully and the throbbing returned behind his eyes.   
He could tell by the set of Bruce’s shoulders that the man wasn’t exactly comfortable with the situation either.  
Clark returned his attention to the task at hand.  
At least he had a reason to see Bruce later, to go over the notes he was taking.  
  


Diana was enjoying every second.   
The way the deep voice whispered in her ear.  
She wanted to press closer, she wanted those lips to brush against her skin.  
With every breath she took, she inhaled the intoxicating scent of the man.  
She felt the warm hands on her bare arms, the way the fingers twitched as he considered the questions he wanted to ask.

  
When the banker finally stormed off in a huff, Bruce let out a sigh.  
Diana smiled when Bruce didn’t immediately let go of her.  
Bruce turned his face towards Diana, instead of speaking over her shoulder and into her unbound hair.  
Diana took a chance.  
She remained where she was, locked into an embrace with the man she was falling for, and turned her neck.  
As Bruce spoke words of thanks, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to the billionaires.  
  


Bruce stilled immediately.  
He was shocked Diana was being so forward.  
The thrumming in his gut wrenched painfully, and the pressure behind his eyes seemed to explode in a haze.   
If he moved, he knew he would double over in pain.  
Bruce was feeling the nausea rise inside him.  
  


Diana watched Bruce’s face morph into shock.  
He wasn’t responding to the kiss.  
She didn’t understand why.  
Pressing herself against the muscular body, she kept her eyes open for any sign of reciprocation.  


Clark felt sick suddenly, his stomach churned and his head began to pound.  
He glanced towards Bruce, only to discover Diana had her lips on Bruce’s.  
Emotions rose in him at light speed.  
Jealousy, loss, anger and coiled around them all, a sense of possessiveness.  
Long strides took him across the room towards the pair, without conscious thought.  
Clark swore he could sense distress emanating from Bruce.  
He had to trust his instincts, and he didn’t care at that moment, who he pissed off.  
Bruce might be doing it for his cover, but the tautness Clark could feel within himself seemed to be echoed by the Bat.

“Bruce” he said softly, as he stopped near the pair.  
  


Bruce pulled away from Diana’s lips with a jolt as they heard Clark’s voice.  
She became irritated at the interruption.

“Not now Kal” she hissed.  
When she looked into Bruce’s eyes, she saw a strange sight, they looked puzzled.  
Batman never looked like that.  
She leaned in to take those lips again.  
  
  
Bruce’s head whipped around, and Diana’s lips landed on his cheek.

“Clark?” his voice came out strained.  
A large warm hand briefly rested between his shoulder blades, and the sudden sickness seemed to ebb away slowly.  
Bruce felt Diana tense up in his arms.  
He slowly moved backwards, away from Diana, towards the warm presence behind him.  
Clark had removed his hand, but he felt the heat emanating from the Kryptonian.  
It seemed to settle him further.  
  


“S..sorry” the reporter stuttered, uncertain of himself.  
He wilted under Diana’s glare and he could have sworn that she was going to punch him again.  
Seeing Bruce’s relieved look gave him the confidence to stand his ground.

“I was going to ask when you wanted to go over the notes I made.”   
Looking down at the notebook he had inadvertently crumpled in his hand, he quickly tried to smooth it back into shape.  
  
  
Diana looked at the pair of them.  
They wore nearly identical expressions.  
Instinct flared within once more.  
What was going on with them?  
She felt her face flush with embarrassment and anger.  
Diana turned on her heel and headed to the nearby table, where Dinah and Oliver sat.  
  
Clark and Bruce looked at each other.  
They both wore confused looks on their faces.  
  


“Are you alright?” Clark asked.  
Bruce just nodded.

“Do you want to look over the notes later?” the Kryptonian wanted to reach out and wrap his arms around Bruce.    
The man looked shaken.

“Yes, that… that would be helpful.” Bruce said tightly.  
When the man ran a hand through the dark hair, Clark noticed a slight trembling.

“Do you want me to go with you back to the table?” the concern obvious in his voice.  
Bruce shook his head.

“No. Thankyou. I.. I’ll be fine”  
Unsteady feet took the billionaire in the direction of the table.  
Clark watched Bruce leave, the elastic feeling inside wanting to constrict and pull him along with the man.  
He shook his head to clear the jumbled mess inside his head.  
Clark slowly made his way over to the bar area to get some water.  
Things were certainly getting very complicated.

 

Bruce arrived back at the table.    
Diana was telling Dinah and Ollie about their questioning of the banker.    
Bruce hoped she wouldn’t mention the kiss.  
He swallowed down his glass of wine, quickly emptying the glass.  
The feeling of nausea was gone, and a tingling sensation replaced it.  
He’d forgotten it wasn’t normal alcohol he was drinking due to the conflicting feelings inside him.  
The alien beverage was working to loosen his limbs and he welcomed it.  
  
  
Oliver and Dinah listened to Diana tell them about their little spy mission with Clark.  
Oliver took in Bruce’s shaken state, and the way he quaffed the drink down.  
It was rare to see the Batman rattled.  
Diana had her body turned away from the billionaire, so Oliver figured something had happened between the two that wasn’t related to information gathering.  
He sat back and listened to Diana relay the events, keeping an eye on Bruce.  
Oliver also decided he would talk to Dinah about Diana at the first opportunity he got.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Oliver collected his second bottle of wine.   
He had the empty bottle sent to his room so that no one would find the alien label anything other than imported.  The cloak room provided a suitable bag for him to put it in, out of sight.

The sweet flavoured beverage seemed to work much faster than the average drink.  
He felt more than tipsy as he made his way back to Dinah, Diana and Bruce.

Diana gracefully declined more of the wine.   
Oliver poured a glass for Dinah, Bruce and himself.

Bruce was sitting next to Diana, but the archer noticed the subtle shift away from the Amazonian every time she tried to slide closer.  
The Gothamite had been painfully polite to Diana all evening, maintaining more distance ever since they returned with their story of questioning one of Bruce’s suspects.  
  


Both Dinah and Oliver had been told about the little information gathering session.  
From what Oliver could see, their James Bond-esque mission had Diana trying harder than ever to get closer to the Bat.  
Bruce was evenly dividing his time within the group, but Oliver could see his eyes scanning the room with regularity.  

The way they lit up when Bruce saw Clark was undeniable.  
Bruce had caught Oliver looking several times, but Ollie said nothing further to antagonise since the Brucie display during the charity presentation.  
Oliver was somewhat concerned.  
Leaning towards Dinah, he lowered his voice to a whisper.   
  
“Little Bird, just how much have you been encouraging Diana?”  
When she turned to look at him, he indicated Bruce with his chin.   
  
“A lot Ollie.    
You know he pushes people away.    
She’s got to be persistent.” she answered softly.

“Dinah, what if he’s genuinely not interested?    
I don’t want to see anyone get hurt.” Oliver said, looking into Dinah’s eyes.

“Why wouldn’t he be interested?    
Look at her?  
She’s gorgeous!    
And she can take care of herself.  
The arguments about enemies using connections against the big bad Bat are not applicable.”  
Dinah shook her head firmly.   
  
“I’m sure Bruce has already considered the same things.    
It’s not like B won’t have already deliberated it from all aspects.” a frown crossed the blonde man’s features.

“Oliver, where is this coming from?” Dinah asked, sitting up straighter.  
“What do you know?”

Oliver sighed and shook his head.  
Damn Bruce, and his need for secrecy around everything.

“I just don’t want to see anyone get their heart broken Little Bird.    
I believe, if Bruce was interested in Diana, he would have taken matters into his own hands, and acted before now.    
Diana doesn’t have a lot of experience when it comes to matters of the heart, but she’s made her interest very clear for some time now.    
She’s our friend and comrade, and I’m looking out for her, for both of them.    
The same as you are.” Oliver spoke softly, trying to get Dinah to understand a different perspective.  
  


Dinah seemed to ponder his words for a moment, before shrugging her shoulders.

“No, he just needs to be pushed in the right direction.  
Hard.  
You know what he’s like Ollie.  
Diana wanted to give up her crush on him, but I told her not to.    
She should keep at him.    
Persistence is what will win over the Broody one.”

  
Oliver’s eyebrows furrowed with concern.  
This was news to him.  
If Dinah was the one keeping Diana’s interest in Bruce alive, this had the potential to come back and bite them.  
And because he knew there was a certain intimacy developing between the Gothamite and a certain Metropolitan journalist, he became more worried for Diana.  
A love triangle was the last thing the Justice League needed, and it wouldn’t bode well for the individuals involved.

“Dinah, all I’m saying is, be careful.    
The last thing Diana needs is a broken heart.  
It’s one thing to play with fire, it’s another to play with other people’s feelings.  
You know the Bat won’t thank you for interfering.” the worry crept into Oliver's voice.

Dinah took a long hard look at Oliver, noting the concern marring his features.  
“You better not be keeping secrets from me Oliver” a hint of a threat lacing her voice.

“Come on Dinah, I would never leave you in the dark without a good reason.    
And if it’s not my secret to tell, then I hope you would understand.” Oliver’s voice was flat, betraying no emotion one way or another.

Dinah raised her eyebrow.   
“So you do know more than you’re telling me.”  
She held out her hand, palm facing Oliver as the archer attempted to speak again.

“No Ollie.  
If you can’t tell me, that’s fine.    
Unless you can give me a good reason, I won’t stop encouraging Diana.  
She’s strong, she won’t be hurt easily, and I believe they’re perfect for each other.  
She’s my friend, and I won’t stop supporting her or reassuring her.  
She may have had her doubts about Bruce, but I gave arguments I believe are valid.  
I don’t want Diana to give up on this, and I will tell her until I’m blue in the face.  
Bruce just needs to see reason.  
I’m standing by Diana no matter what, even if she doesn’t know what she wants herself.  
They both deserve some happiness.” Dinah’s arms crossed as she spoke.

“All I’m saying, my love, is that you shouldn’t get too involved.  
No matter what happens.” Oliver was firm.  
Internally he was wincing at Dinah’s every word.  
He truly loved Dinah, but at that moment, he wished with all his heart that Dinah had stayed out of it.

  
At the sound of the raised voices, Bruce and Diana were looking at the Star City duo.

  
Dinah picked up her glass and raised it in a toast.   
“To anniversaries and romance” she grinned.

  
Bruce grimaced slightly and lifted his third glass of ‘Space Wine’. He hesitated.  
The way Dinah kept looking from Bruce to Diana was making him uncomfortable.  
Oliver was trying to hide a small scowl but even in his inebriated state, Bruce saw it.

Diana had a glass of sparkling water which joined the group of glasses coming together.   
“To romance” as Diana said this, her eyes were locked onto Bruce.

Oliver added “And to good friends.”

“Happy Anniversary” was all Bruce added to the celebratory moment.

 

The glasses clinked together, and everyone drank.  
  


*~*~*~*~*  
  


Bruce finally managed to get a moment alone.  
He had successfully lost his crowd of admirers.  
It was exhausting at times, playing Brucie Wayne.   
His head was also swimming with the effects of the wine.

Admittedly, he was also somewhat shaken by Diana’s kiss earlier.  
He knew he had to deal with the Amazonian Princess, but was at a loss.   
Bruce had always rejected her advances, and made it clear he wanted nothing more than friendship.  
He had never led Diana to believe there would be more between them.

The booze had helped settle the anxious feeling in his stomach.   
With his whole body feeling loose and relaxed, Bruce was genuinely enjoying himself for the most part.   
The only way to enjoy himself more, would be for Clark to be him.   
The corners of his mouth quirked upwards at the thought of the baggy suited reporter.

Bruce was mostly hidden from sight, leaning against a wall in a dark area of the room.  
A potted palm was right next to him, making his shape indistinct to any that might be searching him out.

“Hi” was a quiet voice from nearby.  
Bruce looked over, a familiar shape was on the other side of the greenery.

“Clark” he breathed.  
There was no need to raise his voice.  
Shadows hid the majority of the boy scout from his eyes, but he caught the flash of white teeth as the reporter gave a small shy smile.  
Without conscious thought, Bruce slid his hand along the wall, behind the decorative foliage.  
He was met halfway by warm fingers entwining with his own.  
It was enough for Bruce.  
Leaning his head back against the wall, he shut his eyes and grinned.  
Clark’s thumb rubbed gently against the skin.  
It made Bruce’s heart beat flutter in his chest.

Fingers slid against each other, along each other.  
It made the nerves fire throughout his body, sending pulses of pleasure everywhere.  
Bruce dragged his fingers against Clark’s palm.  
He heard the hitch in Clark’s breath.  
The purring that seemed to be located behind his belly button ratcheted up.

Slowly they gripped each other, fingers interlacing and firm in his hand.  
Bruce turned his head to look at the baggy suited alien.  
There was a gap between the plant and the wall.

Simultaneously, they leant towards each other.   
Hidden by the green leaves, their lips met.   
A light brushing of lips while their hands remained joined.

It was a chaste kiss, sweet and delicate.  
Bruce hummed against the warm lips pressed against his own.  
They stayed like that for a few moments, letting their surroundings disappear and enjoying a brief respite from the crowd, before straightening up again.

Bruce felt a brilliant smile on his face.  
With a final squeeze, he reluctantly pulled his hand away.  
As much as he wanted to abandon the party, and escape with Clark, he had obligations.

The billionaire took a step forward, glancing back over his shoulder.  
In the limited light, he could clearly see Clark’s matching smile and a slight flush to his cheeks.  
A small blush graced his own features, before he schooled them back into the expected Brucie Wayne leer.

Maybe it was the wine, but Bruce thought it was more likely Clark that made his mind whirl with anticipation.

Giving Clark a wink, he felt ready to face the gathered elite once more.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gala Shenanigans continue.
> 
> Brucie is in good form.
> 
> Clark gets his dance.
> 
> Diana is not giving up.
> 
> Dinah stands by her friend.
> 
> Oliver drinks.
> 
> What a night!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first thing you will notice is the format change.  
> Many thanks to Lopethicus and VaticanSaint for wrangling it into shape.
> 
> Secondly, many many more thanks to the wonderful VaticanSaint (on AO3 as undeservinghero) for Beta reading for me.  
> Go and checkout the amazing art on Tumblr!
> 
> This is the first time I have had a chapter Beta read and it feels very reassuring to have had it checked first.  
> I still have my anxiety, but it is definitely much lower than previous chapter postings.
> 
> Thirdly, thankyou to wonderful friends.  
> People who listen when I ramble on about Stuff.  
> You are all precious people.
> 
> I'd also like to thank Subatlove, who helped with 'Harold Cranson'.
> 
> Finally, as always, I hope you enjoy.

*~*~*~*~*

Chapter 27

*~*~*~*~*

The Gala Interlude  
Or  
The Jealous Clark Arc  
  
Part 8

*~*~*~*~*

Bruce had left the group to do more rounds, continuing work for the charity as well as maintaining his Brucie persona. The silence stretched after he left. Oliver stared into his drink, while the two women were exchanging meaningful looks.

Eventually Dinah sighed and broke the quiet within the trio. “What happened?” she asked very directly.

Diana glanced at Oliver then shrugged. She wasn’t one to hide from anyone, and she doubted Oliver was unaware of her attraction to Bruce. “I kissed him,” Diana stated simply.

Dinah squealed with happiness for a moment, then stilled at Diana’s expression. “You don’t look thrilled. Was he a bad kisser?” 

Diana rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t know. He didn’t kiss me back.” 

Dinah gasped.

Oliver looked at the two gossiping women. He wanted to butt in to tell Diana that Bruce wasn’t interested in her. It wasn’t that he wanted to be mean to the Amazon. Ollie preferred honesty in this instance. However, it wasn’t his secret to share. He decided to bite his tongue for now. 

“What do you mean he didn’t kiss you back? Tell me everything!” Dinah demanded. 

Diana took a sip of her drink and explained what happened. Both Oliver and Dinah were watching with varying degrees of surprise on their faces. “Oliver, you are a male. Why would Bruce react this way?” Diana questioned.

Oliver immediately felt put on the spot. What could he say? “Well,” he started hesitantly. “Firstly, you obviously took him by surprise. Secondly, it sounds like he was in B-man mode. What with the suspect and the questioning. And finally, do you think he knows you’re attracted to him?”

Dinah snorted at Oliver. “Of course he knows. World’s Greatest Detective. And with my guidance, Diana has made her interest clear.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Oliver said quietly. Both women stared at him intensely. Oliver wouldn’t meet their eyes. “Okay. I’ll ask you this: if you’ve made your heart known to him, what was his response?”

Dinah was the one who answered. “You know what he’s like. He would push away any kind of romantic gesture. No matter who it was."

Oliver looked from Dinah to Diana. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Diana, what was your gut reaction?” he asked smoothly.

Diana frowned for a moment. “It is as Dinah said. Bruce said he wasn’t interested in me in that way and wanted to retain a friendship. Nothing more.”

Oliver took a deep breath. “And has Bruce ever given any indication that he was not one hundred percent truthful in that statement? Has he ever hinted that he was interested in more with you?”

Dinah interjected. “Oliver, think about who you are talking about here. If he did have any feelings towards Diana, he would hide them because he’s a secretive bastard.” There was no venom behind the words, more a statement of fact.

“I’m asking Diana” he said firmly. Dinah just looked at him as the archer gauged the Amazon’s response.

“No. He has not,” Diana replied rather sadly.

“So, if we take it that Bruce was being truthful with Diana, how would he feel after the events of tonight?” Oliver continued logically.

Diana blushed. 

Dinah saw her friend’s uncomfortable reaction and turned to Oliver. “Listen here, Oliver Queen. Bruce is a stubborn man. Reminds me of you in many ways. If Diana doesn’t make a strong case for more than friendship, then Bruce will probably do nothing.  Even if he wanted to,” Dinah hissed.

“Little Bird…” Oliver began.

“Just one moment,” Dinah interrupted him. “Diana is a friend, a sister, a comrade in arms. I want nothing more than her happiness and good health. If you think I won’t stand by her and help her through rough times, you’ve got me all wrong.” 

Oliver held up his hands to placate the irate blonde. “I never implied you weren’t a good friend Dinah. All I’m saying is, you can’t force this if it’s one-sided.” 

Dinah narrowed her eyes. She wanted to say more, ask more, but with Diana next to them and feeling fragile, now was not the time. 

“Oliver,” Diana began, “if you know of where Bruce’s heart lies, be it with me or with another, I ask you to tell me.” 

Oliver just shook his head. “I’m just speculating. Do any of us know what goes on in that big brain of his? But I am suggesting, strongly, that you listen to him. What choice of words he uses. He's not one to dismiss anything lightly, and he would never do anything to hurt you Princess. I know that much.”

“Aha!” Dinah crowed. “He does care!” 

Oliver pinched the bridge of his nose. How did it ever come to this, he pondered. 

“Don’t give up yet Diana!” Dinah said, reaching out to squeeze her friend’s hand.

Diana looked between the couple and slowly nodded. “Alright,” she said.

Oliver’s wince went unseen.

*~*~*~*~*

Bruce arrived back at the table, to be met with expectant faces. Standing next to his seated friends, he studied them cautiously. Diana’s hopeful face was the most prominent. It appeared as if she had talked with Dinah and was once again in pursuit mode. Oliver was frowning a little, saying nothing and sipping the wine.

Bruce reached for his glass. This was his third drink, and he couldn’t deny the effects he was feeling. He also worried about the situation with Diana. Bruce needed to deflect the Amazon. Taking a step out of arm’s reach of the Princess, he gazed around the room. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Dinah giving Diana an encouraging nudge. Grimacing, he took a gulp of the sweet beverage. 

A group of businessmen passed nearby, headed for the exit. One broke from the pack and moved in Bruce’s direction. He knew this man. Harold Cranson. A billionaire in his own right, heavily invested in aircraft and emerging space travel. Harold frequently sent proposals to Wayne Enterprises, seeking partnership or sponsorship for various projects.

“Mr Wayne.” Harold extended a hand towards Bruce.

Taking another sip of his wine, Bruce’s alcohol induced playfulness came to the fore. Bruce swayed slightly before turning to the man and offering a limp handshake. “That’s me!” Bruce didn’t need to affect a slight slur to his voice. Oliver’s beverage was doing it’s work. 

Cranson gave an awkward laugh before beginning to speak passionately. “I’d like to have a word about our recent proposal? Have you seen it? A deep space mission to explore the outer Solar System in more depth than Voyager was able to provide. Advances in technology can give us greater insights and provide valuable knowledge. Your connections and Wayne Enterprises would be a huge asset to the mission we’re planning.”

“Mmmm,” Bruce hummed, distinctly uninterested. 

Cranson pressed on. “A vast universe is out there, as yet unexplored. Humans don’t have enough knowledge of their own system. We need to start somewhere Bruce. The first steps towards greater understanding.”

Bruce drank the last of his drink, and held the glass toward Oliver expectantly. Oliver just lifted an eyebrow, and refilled the crystal flute. Bruce held up four fingers and winked at the archer. Ollie just smirked. Cranson hadn’t stopped talking, but Bruce wasn’t paying attention. 

The wine made his head fuzzy, and his eyes are constantly scanning the room for Clark. Nearby, a group of women were at the edge of the dance floor and making come hither motions with their hands, obviously wanting Bruce to dance with them.

Bruce lifted the beverage in his hand in a salute, which caused Cranson to stutter for a moment.  “Mr Wayne, please? The possibilities for endless surprises are just waiting out there.” He sounded a little desperate.

“I hate surprises.” Bruce smirked. “Except surprise fellatio. That I like.” He was very blatantly staring at the girls, and Harold Cranson blushed crimson.

Diana gave Dinah a look, and Oliver tried to reassure everyone by laughing the situation off. “Ah, Brucie strikes again,” he said. The two women glared at the archer, and he silently mouthed the words “Public identity” at them.

Dinah sat back and folds her arms while Diana watched Bruce carefully. 

Oliver had done the best he could in the situation and took a long swallow of his drink. He was over it and didn’t want to be caught up in this mess any further.

Bruce wanted nothing more than to go to Clark. His body was awash with the intoxicating beverage, along with the now familiar thrumming in his stomach. The pulsing had resumed behind his eyes, and Bruce remembered how it changed when he had kissed the Boy Scout. His heart rate increased just thinking about those soft lips and the hard muscular body. Bruce’s cock gave a little jump in his pants. Bruce doesn’t know if it’s the booze or thinking of Clark, but he’s horny. He wants some Kryptonian action. The alcohol is definitely not helping his situation.

Unfortunately--between Diana, the pair from Star City, Harold Cranson, and the group of women beckoning to him--he can’t act on his desires. Frustration rose within him before he pushed it down. Sighing into his glass, he took another swig. “It’s not that I don’t love these little talks Harvey,” Bruce slurs, getting the name deliberately wrong, “it’s just that… I don’t love them.”

“Harold. Harold Cranson, Mr Wayne. I’m sure if you could listen for just a few more minutes.” The other billionaire reaches for Bruce’s arm in desperation.

“Ronald,” Bruce mumbled, his words becoming more garbled. “I’d love to hear more about this, but to be honest with you, I don’t actually give a fuck right now.” 

“Mr Wayne, I think you’re drunk,” Harold’s frowns at the younger man.

“Of course I’m drunk” Bruce laughs “Or I wouldn’t be talking to you.” 

At the nearby table, Oliver broke into a loud snort which he tried to cover with a cough. 

Bruce grinned down at the archer, and swallowed another sip from his glass. His increased pace of consumption has ramped up the effects, and Bruce knew he was smashed. It’s been many years since he’d been this far gone under the influence. A wide smile graced his face, and he winked at Oliver--who dissolved into a fit of giggles.

“Mr Wayne, please….” 

Before Cranson could say any more, Bruce pressed his finger to the man’s lips firmly.

“Shhh shhh shhh shhh it’s okay, Horatio.” Bruce pressed harder when Harold tried to remove Bruce’s hand from his face. Bruce persists. “Shhh shhh shhh.” Bruce kept his fingers in place and lifted his glass. He downed nearly half the glass. Bruce’s next words were barely recognisable.

“Hernan. Harold. Harry. Whateveryournameis… you see those girls over there?” Bruce removed his finger and waved his arm towards the small crowd of women near the newly set up dance floor. “I’m going to go dance with them, ok? So it’s gonna look like I’m leaving, but that’s only because I’m leaving.”

Bruce finished his drink and started to move away from poor Harold Cranson, only to stop suddenly and whirl back towards the man. “Oh, would you hold this?” He handed the empty glass to the suited man with a mumbled “thanks” before staggering off towards the tittering flock of girls. Oliver’s gales of laughter could be heard following him. What Bruce didn’t see were the matching frowns on Dinah and Diana’s faces.

Elsewhere in the crowd, Clark smiled quietly to himself.

*~*~*~*~*

The classic jazz band had left. Bruce didn’t know how late it was. He didn’t care. High as a kite on Oliver and Dinah’s ‘special’ drink, it felt like he was floating around the large hall. The older socialite fogies had long since gone. A DJ was set up, and the younger jetset crowd danced under colourful lights. Fog misted across the floor and lasers cut through in harsh bright flashes.  The thumping beat of the bass reverberated down his spine. A group of young women had enticed him onto the dance floor. Bruce danced with all of them, and none of them. He spun in lazy circles, eyes half-lidded, a smile gracing his aristocratic features.

Brucie Wayne had been to raves, dance parties, and clubs before but always sober and controlled, only ever pretending to be inebriated. Now, he was far from sober and gave up his famed control, allowing himself to be seduced by the music. He’d lost his jacket and tie a while ago. Someone had undone the buttons of his shirt to just below his pectorals, his long white throat flashed under the strobes. Bruce had never felt so carefree.

With bent knees, leaning back, he began a roll that started from his chest and ended at his hips, popping back up, over and over. Someone came up behind him, slipping a hand inside his shirt and stroking down his chest. Another hand gripped his hip and Bruce began to sway. Nails dragged against skin and he moaned, unheard beneath the pumping tunes. He lifted his arms into the air, and moved in a rhythmic dance. Seductive and erotic. 

Someone else pressed against his chest. A pair of lips on his neck. His head dropped back to look up at the ceiling. As he closed his eyes, he felt pressure against his groin. He released himself into the moment. Bruce’s body naturally flowed into the new element, his lithe form twisting and stretching, hips gyrating. His feet took him to all areas of the dance floor. He felt many pairs of eyes on him from around the room. Bodies moved against him, around him, interchanging, never staying constant. Lipstick marked him, hands gripped and stroked him. Flesh pressed against flesh. Someone’s lips were on his. He smirked into the kiss before turning away to wrap an arm around another body nearby.  

“Bruce!” a voice tried to call over the music. He ignored it.

Spinning away from a hand that tried to grab his bicep, he was across the dance floor in a flash. His laughter joined the booming from the speakers. Sweat dripped down his face, his hair stuck to his forehead and he was keeping everyone away by stretching his arms wide and twirling. There was a pause in the song, voices hushed and the voice called again. “Bruce.”

The beat resumed after it’s artistic silence. Bruce jerked and his feet moved. The lights reflected from his glassy eyes whenever he opened them. He found himself back over near Oliver and Dinah. Rushing over, he grabbed Ollie’s drink from his hand and downed it in one smooth action.

“Bruce,” Oliver chastised and laughed in the same breath.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” asked Dinah from next to the archer. 

“Nope,” Bruce replied, popping the p and grinning widely. “Dance with me Dinah.” Miraculously, he wasn’t slurring his words too badly. 

“I think Diana would like to,” said the blonde haired beauty. 

Bruce scrunched up his nose. Dinah lifted an eyebrow. 

Bruce turned to Oliver and asked him to dance instead. Both Dinah and Ollie laughed then. 

“Bruce,” the voice called again over the noise. Bruce whirled and saw Diana with a scowl on her face making her way through the crowd. 

Bruce turned back to Dinah and Oliver and smirked. “See ya,” he called, disappearing into the crowd away from Diana. 

Diana approached the Star City duo, looking frustrated. “What has gotten into him?” she hissed. “I know all about the image he has to maintain, but we are meant to be on a date. He’s obviously avoiding me altogether now.” 

Dinah looked at her friend. She too was slightly buzzed from the wine, but she felt for Diana. “He may have had a bit too much to drink, Diana,” she started to explain. 

“But I thought the drinking was a pretense,” Diana crossed her arms as she said this. 

“Well, this is partly our fault,” Dinah pointed to the wine that she and Oliver had received from Shayera. Diana nodded, remembering the explanation of the wine’s origin up in the suite earlier. 

Oliver added. “Under normal circumstances--yes--Bruce only pretends to drink. Losing bets at the football ensured full participation for this evening. We all know how much our uptight friend needs to relax. Tall, dark, and broody seems to be genuinely enjoying himself.” He turned to Dinah. “Have you been recording any of it on your phone?” 

Dinah wanted to admonish Oliver but couldn’t find it in her heart. “I have. I got the big bad B twerking.” She smirked. Looking to Diana, she added, “I’ll send it to you Diana. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Bruce actually drunk before. He seems to be in such a playful mood, but it’s nothing to take seriously.” 

Diana uncrossed her arms and threw her arms in the air in a helpless gesture. 

“Honestly Diana, he’s letting his hair down, but none of the people he’s dancing with mean anything to him. He probably won’t even remember them come morning. He will remember earlier in the evening with you. You were enjoying each other’s company. Bruce will remember that,” Dinah reassured with a grin. 

Diana looked dubious and turned her head to look for where Bruce was now. What Dinah said was true. Diana had never seen Bruce smile so widely or freely, even in his Brucie persona. She hoped her friends were right.

Oliver watched them. His eyes flickered around the room until he spotted Bruce. Without alerting the girls, he watched with interest as he noticed Clark near the billionaire, staring intently at the dancing man. Bruce didn’t seem aware of Clark’s gaze but was gravitating in the reporter’s direction. Oliver secretly sent good luck Clark’s way and decided to herd the two D’s in the other direction. 

Oliver held on tightly to the half full magnum sized bottle of ‘imported’ wine. They were well into the second bottle now, and the trio headed towards the comfortable lounges set up where the buffet had been earlier.  

*~*~*~*~*

Clark was mesmerised. Bruce’s smile blinded him every time he caught the flash of perfect white teeth. The Gothamite’s laughter sounded bright to his ears. Clark held on to the special sound that did things to his heart and stomach. 

Bruce moved with and against the crowd, as his whims weren’t dictated by the pack of people, and was inadvertently moving closer to Clark. By the time Bruce’s broad back was within three or four meters, Clark spoke a single word softly. 

“Bruce.” 

Bruce turned as if he had heard over the music. Steel blue eyes locked onto Clark’s. A smirk lifted the corners of those luscious lips, and Clark’s breath hitched in his chest. Swallowing nervously, he repeated, “Bruce.”

Bruce began to move, stalking closer, with a downright sultry smile on his face. Clark’s heart began to beat wildly. 

The billionaire’s hand reached out to caress Clark’s cheek. Flames of embarrassment and desire flared through the Kryptonian. Bruce laughed and swivelled, pressing his back against Clark’s chest. He began to rock.

Clark goldfished as Bruce bent his knees and began to circle his hips, grinding up and down against him. An arm was flung back to grip the back of Clark’s neck, the other reached down and grabbed his hip. The rotating movement against him inflamed the passion that flared to life. 

“Bruce,” Clark moaned against Bruce’s ear. He could feel himself getting hard while that ass moved against his groin. Bruce laughed and turned his head. The grip on his neck tightened, and Bruce leaned in to lick tantalisingly against Clark’s lips. Clark’s tongue flicked out to tangle with that irresistible appendage. Their lips were barely touching. His groan reverberated from deep in his chest. Then his mouth opened instinctively, and Bruce’s tongue delved deep. 

Bruce’s hand on Clark’s hip caught one of the Clark’s own and held tightly. Bruce moved their entwined fingers to the open shirt and slid it inside against the skin. Clark’s other hand moved to rest on the expensive leather belt wrapped around his narrow waist. Bruce’s shirt had become untucked with all the dancing, and Clark slid his hand up onto hard abdominals. Both of Bruce’s arms reached up and back around Clark’s neck. That glorious rear didn’t stop it’s gyrations. Clark held the man against him tightly and took Bruce’s mouth at the awkward angle. Bruce nipped, licked, and sucked, and Clark moaned into the soft, moist lips. 

Clark felt himself shallowly thrust against Bruce, and that dark haired head tipped back. The unique musical tone of his joy voiced freely as he laughed up at the ceiling. Bruce took a half step forward, spun around on the spot, and grabbed the lapels of Clark’s suit. A quick tug had their lips clashing fiercely, and it devolved into a filthy, open mouthed kiss. Clark wrapped his arms around Bruce and pulled him in tight. Bruce’s breathy moans were inhaled greedily.

When they broke for air, Bruce laughed breathlessly and stepped back again. Clark let go of the hard body he was holding and watched as Bruce sank back into the crowd. 

*~*~*~*~*


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *~*~*~*~*
> 
> Bruce nearly drops the ball.
> 
> Clark nearly drops Bruce.
> 
> Diana has just about had enough of this shit.
> 
> Dinah just wants her friend to be happy.
> 
> Oliver keeps drinking.
> 
> Gala shenanigans are continuing with drama, drinking and deliciousness.
> 
> *~*~*~*~*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you like this chapter.  
> I'm a little fond of this one ;)
> 
> More thanks go to the amazing VaticanSaint (undeservinghero here on AO3) for Beta reading.
> 
> And of course, those that listen to me whinge so much about my story.  
> Much love, and Alfred's home made cookies, of course!
> 
> *~*~*~*~*

*~*~*~*~*    
  


The Gala Interlude

Or

The Jealous Clark Arc

Part 9

*~*~*~*~*

Oliver, Dinah and Diana were seated on a large lounge. The L shape was big enough for eight people. Diana was perched on the end, scanning the crowd. Next to her, Dinah and Oliver were cuddled up to each other. Although Oliver had his arm across his girlfriend’s shoulders, Dinah held one of Diana’s hands in sympathy.

Bruce arrived from a completely unexpected direction and flopped down adjacent to the trio. He was panting and laughing. Sweat clung to his brow and glistened on his exposed chest. Blue eyes flashed mischievously.

“I’m having the best time,” he called to them happily.

Diana swung her head around to face Bruce. She was ready to give him a piece of her mind when her breath was taken away by the sight of him. There was a flash of skin at his hipbone where his shirt had rucked up when he flopped down. Diana’s eyes were glued to that small exposed area. It seemed so intimate.

Diana had never seen much of Bruce’s body. It was always kept well hidden in his uniform, the cape and cowl disguising him completely. To see the heaving chest, the muscle definition from dedicated hard work and that small flash of skin near his belt, had Diana hypnotised. Feeling Dinah squeeze her hand, she took a deep breath and stood.

Diana walked over to Bruce. His head was tilted back against the low back of the lounge, his forearm flung across his eyes. She couldn’t resist reaching out towards those cut pectorals. Bruce’s hand flashed out and caught her wrist. Diana could have continued to press her hand forward, easily being stronger than the human, but she paused instead. Sparkling blue eyes looked at her. Bruce’s hand tugged at Diana’s, and she allowed herself to half fall onto the comfortable surface next to him. He leaned over and rested his head in the crook of her neck.

“You smell good Princess,” Bruce whispered.

Diana’s heart nearly stopped.

*~*~*~*~*

Clark was staring into his glass, wishing like Hell he could get drunk. As he glanced back over at his friends, he saw Bruce’s head was nestled in Diana’s neck. Diana’s flush was visible without needing to use his powers. Apparently others in the crowd also noticed. The whispers that floated around the ballroom were loud to his ears. Gritting his teeth, he heard Bruce’s words to Diana.

“You smell good Princess,” was like the crack of thunder.

Suddenly, the glass shattered in his hand. A couple of people nearby looked but most ignored it. Two waiters on clean-up duty appeared to sweep and mop the broken materials away. Clark’s embarrassment must have been obvious because one of the men offered a clean hand towel for him to wipe his hands on. Waving his hands in thanks, Clark headed to the men's room to wash up.

The door banged closed, and Clark moved over to the wash basin. Stall doors stood open, and the facility was empty. Admittedly Clark had gone to the one furthest from the Gala. He didn’t want to talk to anyone. He ached all over, the pull in his gut felt like it would rip his insides out.

As he finished up, holding his hands under the hot air dryer, the door opened and let in the raucous sounds from the dance floor. The door banged again, and the music diminished abruptly. Looking in the mirror, Clark’s eyes widened.

Leaning on the small privacy wall next to the door, hands in pockets, was Bruce.

He looked glorious. The blue eyes were half lidded, smouldering at Clark unashamedly. Several buttons were the only thing holding the expensive shirt closed and the broad expanse of chest was well defined in the low lighting. Bruce licked his lips languidly. Clark felt himself stir on many levels at once. In his mind, the fog of jealousy and despair cleared. Clark’s heart fluttered; his mouth was suddenly dry, and his cock twitched in his pants.

“Clark,” Bruce whispered. The sound of his name hit him like a freight train from those luscious lips.

“Bruce,” Clark tried to answer confidently, but it came out more like a squeak. Turning away from the vanity to face the man, he was hit by the full force of Bruce eyes burning like embers.

Shrugging himself off the wall, Bruce flicked the lock on the door and stalked over like a predatory tiger. Stepping lightly, the man practically purred as he approached. Clark was stunned into stillness. Bruce walked up to him and pressed himself chest to chest. Clark was gulping air like there was no tomorrow. He didn’t even need to breathe like Bruce did, but he felt oxygen starved.

Bruce’s hand lifted and dragged his thumb across Clark’s lower lip. Without conscious thought, Clark sucked it into his mouth. His tongue felt every whorl of the unique fingerprint. Bruce’s blue eyes were staring into his, and Clark felt locked in. He couldn’t tear his gaze away.  The arctic blues drew him in, and he drowned in them willingly.

Bruce pulled his thumb out, a trail of saliva kept them connected until Bruce put the thumb in his own mouth with a satisfied hum.

Clark could swear he felt the earth move with that noise, as if the sound was dragged from deep below the crust. His heart skipped a beat. Blood flowed into his cock. Bruce reached up to take Clark’s glasses, slipping the frames onto his own aristocratic features. The lenses made those hypnotic eyes seem larger.

Clark managed to inhale a breath somehow. Both of Bruce’s hands slid beneath the lapels of his jacket and began sliding down to unbutton it, until they worked their way inside. Clark was being tortured. He wanted, oh Rao how he wanted. He needed Bruce so damned much.

Bruce’s hands brushed up his flanks, and Clark felt the touch as if it were pure lava, blood going molten. The hands moved deliberately slowly. Clark didn’t dare move except for the involuntary spasm of muscles. Bruce smirked and leaned to whisper in his ear.

“Kal.” Barely a sound, a puff of air, but it may as well have been a shout the way Clark felt lifted and drawn at the same time. Clark’s head tilted back as Bruce licked a stripe along his jaw. He shuddered when Bruce pushed that beautiful face into his neck, and that clever tongue slid across his throat.

“Mmmmm,” Bruce hummed against his skin. Clark’s hands were flailing in slow motion. He wanted, needed desperately, to touch but he was terrified to break this spell they were under. Bruce pressed a knee between his legs and shuffled his foot to step between Clark’s feet. His muscled thigh pressed against his hardened length and rubbed in small motions. Clark quivered. Bruce felt it and smirked against the spot under his chin.

The whole thing was as if in slow motion. Bruce’s hands slid upwards and Clark felt his nipples perk beneath his cotton shirt. Leaning back from his hips, Bruce pressed an unmissable erection against Clark’s heat. Clark’s arms started to encircle Bruce of their own free will. He couldn’t think clearly. He just wanted to hold that body against his own.

Bruce’s hands continued to move at an agonisingly slow pace until one reached the tie that was knotted badly around his neck. A sudden tug and Bruce’s lips were on his. Clark whimpered and Bruce grinned lasciviously. He couldn’t take it anymore.

Clark’s big arms wrapped themselves around broad shoulders and pulled tight. He dove into that delicious mouth. Bruce’s hitched breath was sucked in greedily by Clark. Their lips melded together and Clark was lost.

Bruce managed to loosen the tie and undo several top buttons without Clark realising. Those clever hands then slid down to rest on Clark’s hips. Where their abdominals were pressed against each other, that tugging thrum that lived inside him constantly these days flared with the brightness of light. The ache turned into a different pain.

Clark’s hands came up to hold Bruce’s face between his palms. Their kisses were desperate. Their tongues slicked against each other, and Clark felt as if his whole body was vibrating with a need that shot through each individual nerve. Electricity seemed to spark at every point of contact causing little twitches to fire throughout. It was making him feel weak. His knees threatened to give out on him.

One of Clark’s hands reached to grip the back of Bruce’s neck while the other began a slow journey over Bruce’s shoulder, down the muscular back and onto the ass that was so perfectly tight. Bruce’s hands slipped up from under his jacket and tugged at his shirt. Moments later, cool hands were on heated skin, gliding up and down his back, clawing against invulnerable flesh. Clark worried for a nanosecond if the manicured nails would break before Bruce’s tongue in his mouth made him forget.

Both men were moaning and whining with passion and desire. Clark gripped at that firm ass and pulled, making Bruce lift up onto his body higher. He began sucking at the open collar of Bruce’s shirt.

Bruce let out a breathless chuckle as Clark nosed the shirt open further and began to swipe his tongue at the exposed collarbones, licking into the hollows and dips. As Clark held him aloft, Bruce slipped his arms out from Clark’s jacket to wrap them around his neck.

Bruce threw his head back, exposing the long length of his neck. Clark’s glasses went clattering across the floor. One of Bruce’s hands tangled in his hair while the other fisted in the back of his jacket, Bruce pushed Clark’s face against scarred skin.

He held Bruce so his groin was pressed against his stomach. Clark bit and sucked, licking down until a hardened nipple was under his lips. Bruce was trying to thrust against him, to gain delicious friction, but without his feet on the ground, the man had no traction. They stayed like that long enough for Clark to give the other nipple the same attention as the first, kissing and nipping at the pebbled texture.

Bruce shuddered. “Kal, oh Kal. Oh God. I need you Kal!” The desperation was clear in Bruce’s voice.

Clark trembled the length of his body. Letting the addictive man slide back down, Clark took those moist lips with all the ferocity he could allow. The pair were completely wrapped around each other, as if trying to get under the other’s skin. Bruce’s hand never left his hair, pulling and tugging him to the angle Bruce wanted. Their moans were getting louder, echoing in the tiled space. If Clark was any harder, he was going to break Bruce’s pelvis. His hands moved on Bruce, and Bruce was writhing into his touch.

“Can’t… live without.. you,” Bruce huffed into his mouth. Clark’s eyes were closed as he inhaled each word into his heart.

“Kal, I…. “ Clark paused in his ministrations to listen carefully. “Kal, fuck, I lo--”

There was a sudden loud banging on the door that startled the pair. Clark whipped his head around, and his eyes glowed crimson. His mind screamed ‘WHAT WAS BRUCE GOING TO SAY?’ 

Bruce grabbed his face and pulled their lips back together, gently mouthing at Clark’s. Clark closed his eyes, banking the desire to burn whoever was behind that fucking door!

“Bruce?” Clark whispered encouragingly against his moist lips. He hoped Bruce would try to say the words again. The banging on the door sounded again. Clark growled deep in his chest, still kissing the man in his arms senseless. Bruce exhaled a single gust of laughter into his mouth.

“Clark,” he said softly when they parted.

The banging on the door went away. Clark wanted to cry. He knew something important had been interrupted, and he had no idea if the fickle man in his arms would be willing to repeat himself. 

Bruce pulled back until their foreheads touched and sighed deeply. Steel blue, like arctic ice over deep water, was a fine ring around dilated pupils.

Clark didn’t recognise the expression that gazed at him, and he could admit it threw him a little. It was soft and gentle in it’s exploration of Clark’s own eyes, as if searching for an answer. Whatever it was, Clark wanted to give it the man. Lips brushed lips. The desperation of their earlier kisses had fallen away. Now the two men’s mouths met with feather light pressure, tongues slid together in a slow dance.

Clark knew he was done for. He loved this man with everything he had. As much as Clark wanted to say the words, and show in actions, the deepest recesses of his heart played coy. Clark had already let slip twice, and he wondered if Bruce remembered. They were still holding each other tightly. Bruce’s hands were opening and closing in place, as if afraid Clark would fly away suddenly.

Clark’s hearing caught the sound of his name. Diana was asking Oliver and Dinah where they were.

“Bruce,” he whispered.

“Mmmmm,” the billionaire hummed against his lips. There was a comfort to their kisses now, a settling. Hands skimmed each other, lightly touching.

“The others, they’re wondering where we are. We should….” Clark stopped as Bruce playfully nipped at his lips. Bruce’s smile was brilliant. Clark would never get sick of seeing it.

“Yeah we should,” Bruce murmured, but made no move to stop kissing him. Clark licked at Bruce’s lips, and he tried to catch his tongue in his teeth. They were both giggling softly. Clark put his hands on broad shoulders and leaned back. Bruce tried to chase after his lips, and Clark gave in to a few pecks.

“Are you going to tell me what you were saying before?” Clark asked. A perfectly shaped brow arched in question. Clark shook his head. No, of course not. He should have known better than to ask.

“Will I see you later?” Bruce asked, voice husky and low. It sent a shiver down Clark’s spine.

“You want to go over the notes?” Clark asked. 

Bruce grinned, and leaned in to kiss him again. When they broke apart, the Gothamite huffed against his lips.

“No Clark. I don’t want to see you to go over your notes,” the sexy honeyed voice teased. Instead, Bruce reached down and palmed Clark’s still hard cock through his pants.

“I want you to fuck me, Clark. And then I want to fuck you.”  The crude words spoken in that come hither tone had Clark wanting to ignore the party, ignore the others that were pondering their disappearance.

“Bruce… I don’t know if I can wait,” the Kryptonian breathed. 

Bruce simply smirked, pressing his hand against the hardness between Clark’s legs. Pressing their lips together once more, Bruce breathed words that Clark inhaled. “It’ll be worth it.” 

All Clark could do was nod. The pair attempted to straighten themselves out, but hands kept wandering to the other, lips kept meeting without question or hesitation. Eventually, they had no excuse to remain. Bruce still looked like a sexy debauched mess but Clark looked reasonably put together. As Bruce straightened Clark’s tie, he lapped at the spot behind Clark’s ear with that clever, moist tongue. Clark felt the vibrations from the soles of his feet to the hair on his head.

“Bruce,” he groaned. The billionaire finally straightened up and patted down Clark’s lapels. Their hands remained entwined until the last possible second, as Bruce slowly made his way across the room. Clark watched as Bruce unlocked door. Before stepping back out into the maddening crowd, the handsome man looked over his shoulder.

“Until later, Clark,” he whispered. Then he was gone. 

Clark looked at himself in the mirror. The biggest smile he’d ever worn was on his face. As he looked at his reflection, he repeated the words Bruce had spoken upon his departure. “Until later.” 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Bruce returned to the ballroom. The wide Brucie grin plastered across his face. He was a wreck, and he simply didn’t care. Any time he spent around Clark left him feeling warm inside.

Hands reached towards him as he returned to the seating area. He brushed them off with a wink and a laugh. Being called to return to the dance floor, he was briefly tempted, until his thoughts returned to Clark. He felt too good and was already thinking ahead to later, getting Clark alone up in his room.

Diana watched Bruce return to the group, looking worse than when he left. When he got closer, she could see the kiss swollen lips, and a hickey poking out from the expensive white shirt. Diana felt her throat close up. Anger rose in her. Frustration made her clench her fists. She felt like she wanted to cry. Rather than stay, she got up and headed to the ladies room.

The facility was enormous, with a room for seating and mirrors for the reapplication of makeup. Diana brushed past and through another door to where the toilets were. Taking a stall at the end, she slammed the door closed and sat on the toilet once she dropped the lid down. She unspooled a decent pile of toilet paper, bunched it up into her hands, and let out a muffled sob. The lump in her throat felt huge. Fat tears fell. Her chest felt constricted and tight. Diana was overwhelmed.

It was obvious Bruce had been with someone else. Why not her? He’d flattered her, danced with her, been attentive and laughed with her throughout the evening. So why? Strange feelings coursed through her. Suddenly, she felt so useless. More than that, she felt foolish. These emotions were unfamiliar territory to the usually confident Amazon.

She had felt disappointment, and had more than her fair share of arguments with her mother over the years.  She’d felt anger and frustration before. No, what was new, was this wrenching in her heart. She couldn’t understand why she felt unable to cope so suddenly.

Part of her wanted to go out there and slap Bruce Wayne across his gorgeous smirking face.  Another part wanted to demand an explanation. She didn’t understand what she had done wrong. Diana knew it was irrational. She could assess a battlefield in moments, never hesitated to take action and had never failed to meet a challenge head on before.

Now, she was getting nowhere. It was like banging her head against a wall. Diana had even loved before and felt grief. But this was different. She had no explanation.

Over the past week, she had prayed to Hera for guidance and made offerings to Aphrodite. Diana couldn’t help but feel hopeless. At least if she gave up now, she didn’t risk making a further fool of herself. But the love she had and the desire to see it through was powerful. All she could do was continue to seek help. 

Admittedly, she didn’t know who she could turn to at this particular moment. Dinah was out in the ballroom but was also celebrating her anniversary with Oliver. She didn’t want to spoil their happiness. It was impossible to just call Themyscira. Even if she could--if she asked her mother for advice--she would simply be told that no man was worthy of her, that she was too good for man’s world. Antiope, her other closest mentor, was gone.

Diana suddenly felt alone. The desire to punch something crawled up her spine. She genuinely felt lost, like a ship without a rudder. If she left the gala, not only would it feel like quitting, but it would worry her friends. Diana was no quitter by nature. How could she express these feelings? Even asking for help felt like another failure on top of the rest.

She stayed there, trapped in her thoughts, for some time.

*~*~*~*~*

Dinah was worried. Diana had left the table quite a while ago now. She glared at Bruce, who was sprawled out, head thrown back on the lounge, and eyes shut. Black Canary was no fool. She could see Bruce had been making out by his kiss swollen lips and purpling bruises partially hidden by the open collar. Diana had good reason to be upset.

“What are you doing Bruce?” she asked.

“Hmmm?” the Gothamite hummed without opening his eyes.

“I’m talking about Diana.  Anyone with eyes can see you’ve been with another woman.  Why are you doing this to her?” Dinah’s voice sounded angry. 

Bruce’s eyes opened slowly and he frowned.

“I’m not doing anything to Diana,” his voice had taken on a slur. 

Dinah crossed her arms and glared at the man. “Bruce,” she growled.

“You know I have an image to maintain,” Bruce closed his eyes again, not wanting to look at the pair.

Oliver sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You should tell her.” 

Bruce sat bolt upright and gave a hard stare to Oliver.

Dinah looked sideways at her boyfriend. “Tell her what?” she asked.

“Nothing,” Bruce grumbled.

“Tell her he’s not interested in her romantically,” the archer continued. 

Bruce levelled a stare at the blonde man.

“I have told her Ollie. Repeatedly. Tonight is not the time to reiterate the fact. I have a feeling that Diana has been encouraged.” Bruce turned to glare at Dinah.

Dinah flushed under the cold gaze. She stood, brushing the creases from her dress. “I’m going to check on Diana,” she said and left for the ladies room.

“Bruce,” Oliver began.

“No Ollie,” Bruce hissed.

Oliver sighed.  “You can’t keep this up. It’s not fair to anyone. You’re hurting people.”

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. “Not my fault Ollie. I just wanted Diana to have a nice evening as friends. Do you have any wine left?”

“I might have to cut you off, you’re slurring your words there, B man,” Oliver replied playfully.

“I’m not slurring my words; I’m talking in cursive.” Bruce grinned in his full on Brucie persona. 

Oliver just sighed and put two fingers worth of wine into Bruce’s champagne flute. 

Dinah had stopped drinking after her third, but the bottle was emptying quickly. There wasn’t a lot left, but enough for a couple of half filled glasses.

It was then that Clark joined the two men sitting on the lounge. He greeted them softly, and Oliver offered a taste of the wine. Clark was well aware of the beverage’s origins. Although he was doubtful he would be affected by it, he was interested enough to give it a try.

Oliver went to fetch a fresh glass from the bar, and Clark could feel Bruce’s eyes on him. His heart gave a little kerthump in response. As much as Clark tried, he couldn’t help meeting the man’s stare.

Bruce licked at his lips. The ones that Clark been them kissing mere minutes ago. 

Bruce then slipped two fingers inside his mostly unbuttoned shirt.  He began sliding his hand slowly upwards, until he was brushing over the hickey that Clark had sucked into the exposed skin.

Clark coughed into his hand, to hide the growl of “Bruce” that emerged from his lips. When he looked up, Bruce was obviously teasing him.

It was at that moment that Oliver returned and partially filled a champagne flute for him. As much as Clark wanted to drink the whole thing down in one gulp, he paused.

“Where are the ladies?” he asked innocently. 

Oliver just frowned in response. 

Clark looked at Bruce for an answer, but the billionaire had flopped back onto the lounge, arm thrown across his eyes with a gusty sigh. The moment felt decidedly awkward. Clark sipped at his wine.

A few minutes later, Dinah returned to the group looking very unhappy. She stood next to where Bruce was sitting and kicked at the long legs stretched out. Bruce’s head came up with a snap, and he glared at Dinah.

“What?” He grumped.

“You need to go and talk with Diana. Now!” Dinah hissed. 

Bruce sighed and went to drop his head back onto the comfort of the lounge, but Dinah kicked at him again. Bruce glared and looked around.

“She’s not even here,” Bruce growled

“Diana is on the balcony,” Dinah stated, pointing towards the open doorway to the outside area. 

Bruce groaned.

“Just talk to her, Bruce,” Oliver added.

Bruce looked from Dinah to Oliver and finally Clark. 

Clark just shrugged his shoulders helplessly. The last thing Bruce wanted to do at that moment was deal with an upset Amazonian Princess.

“You need to straighten things out with her,” was all the reporter had to say.

“Helpful,” was Bruce’s snarky response as he dragged himself to his feet. Reaching down, the half empty glass was snatched up and the contents downed in a large gulp. As the man straightened up again, one hand was run through his messy hair. 

Which didn’t help at all in Clark’s opinion. Bruce still looked sexy. Clark looked away as Bruce stomped off in the direction of the balcony and took another sip of the wine.

Clark felt a distinct tingle and a flush on his cheeks. Slightly glazed eyes took a harder look at the contents of the glass. Clark didn’t know if it was the effects of the wine or the strange symptoms that haunted him of late, but he was definitely buzzed. Staring at the glass he held, it looked like wine but tasted like heaven to the Kansas raised hero.

Dinah sat back down next to Oliver and watched the Boy Scout drinking their ‘Space Wine’. The pair looked at each other, and Oliver winked. Dinah slid the phone out of her purse, and sneakily lined up a picture of Clark Kent drinking booze.  Shayera would get a kick out of this.

*~*~*~*~*


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce tries to be clear with Diana, unsuccessfully.
> 
> Clark gets drunk.
> 
> Diana is going to really go for it, hard.
> 
> Dinah and Oliver attempt damage control.
> 
> Things are way out of hand now.
> 
> What else could go wrong? 
> 
> Really? Really!!
> 
> *author’s evil smirking*
> 
> *~*~*~*~*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Readers,
> 
> Once again, I have many people to thank.  
> You know who you are.  
> You're all amazing, you know that?
> 
> StarDust Family <3
> 
> Any errors in this chapter are purely my own.  
> I'm really tired too, so I probably missed some.
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoy.
> 
> *~*~*~*~*

*~*~*~*~* 

The Gala Interlude

Part 10

*~*~*~*~*

 

Diana was out in the fresh air. Dinah had cajoled her from the stall in the ladies room and helped fix her deteriorating make up. She was grateful to her friend but wasn’t sure she was ready to speak with Bruce yet. She wanted to give her heart’s desire one last chance. She just wasn’t sure how to go about it. Diana needed time to think. Fate had other plans as Diana heard the sound of approaching footsteps. She knew who it was without needing to confirm it with her eyes.  It was Bruce.  She took a deep breath and braced herself.

“Diana” Bruce spoke softly as he stood next to the Amazonian at the balcony railing.  The fresh air seemed to temporarily clear his head from the effects of the wine. He could see Diana had been crying.  Bruce felt bad for his friend.  He had never meant to lead her on or make her think he wanted a relationship with her.  It was obvious that Dinah had been talking with Diana, trying to be the supportive friend.  In this instance it had backfired spectacularly. He reached out to touch Diana’s arm and saw her flinch.  This wasn’t good.  He made a quick decision. Taking her arm firmly he began to lead her away. “Come on. We’re leaving this party.”

“Bruce, what are you doing?” Diana asked.  She was so shocked that she allowed herself to be led away.  Taking a nearby side door and avoiding most of the crowd, Bruce leaned down to whisper in her ear.

“Let’s go someplace private.” Bruce wanted to have a heart to heart with Diana and set things straight between them. Misunderstandings like this were detrimental to the League. He also held a genuine respect for Diana and didn’t want to ruin a friendship over it. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her feelings. He also knew he was still under the influence of alcohol, so it was now or never that he would act out of character and be completely honest with her.

Diana’s heart fluttered. Bruce wanted privacy with her. Maybe Dinah was right after all! Perhaps Diana simply needed to show Bruce how she felt. This was her opportunity. Bruce was taking her away from the crowd. They entered the elevator without causing a stir. The paparazzi were currently distracted by a pair of tall, dark haired actors from a recent superhero movie and paid them no attention.

Bruce was quiet during the elevator ride. His head started to spin again, due to the ‘Space Wine’. Diana wouldn’t look at him. She seemed nervous. Bruce tried to think straight, past the fog forming in his mind. He needed to be gentle with the strong Amazonian woman. He nearly giggled out loud at the irony, but managed to push it down. This was serious, but he was drunk and it made it difficult to stay on track. The elevator came to a slow stop and Bruce motioned for Diana to precede him towards the suite. Despite his powerful concentration, there was a lurch in his step and the air around him seemed to waver in a haze.

Diana was excited. She was determined that she was going to get Bruce to see things her way. She would show him that they were meant to be together. She noticed the slight stagger in his step but didn’t think too hard about it. He went directly to the bar to offer her a drink. She politely refused and waited, sitting on the end of the luxurious leather couch. Diana watched with amusement as Bruce pondered his choice of beverage. Eventually he got himself a large tumbler and managed to get some ice into it, spilling most of the contents of the ice cube tray on the floor in the process.  She studied the man as he sloshed amber liquid into the glass, and it was enough to make her giggle. Bruce’s frown of concentration was very endearing. He also grabbed himself a bottle of water before coming to join her on the sofa.

Bruce cracked the bottle and took a swig of the water. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to clear his head very much. He’s well aware that his faculties are compromised as his head started to spin more and more. He tried to focus on Diana. He needed to have this conversation with her. He owed it to her. 

*~*~*~*~*

Clark was sitting in his seat with a huge grin on his face. He hadn’t had very much of the beverage, but apparently it didn’t take much. Oliver and Dinah were giggling at the Boy Scout’s flushed face. He was obviously affected by the small amount of wine and it was hilarious. It was then that a thought occurred to Oliver. He whipped out his phone and sent a query to Shayera. His phone buzzed almost immediately with the reply. Oliver had asked if their gift was known to have any effects on Kryptonians. He didn’t realise until now that there might be a small chance of a negative reaction. He had asked Shayera as soon as the thought crossed his mind. He was relieved to discover the wine was originally a recipe from Krypton itself, that had been ‘improved’ upon by the distillers on Oa. Shayera also wanted to know how Clark was doing because Dinah had already sent a picture.  Squinting his eyes at the journalist seated with them, Oliver noted the flushed cheeks, the dilated pupils and the slight swaying of Clark’s upper body. A snicker left his lips as he passed on an update to Shayera.

Clark was most assuredly feeling very different from his usual self. There was a warmth coiling in his belly and a heat to his face that was new to him. He grinned at the Star City duo and wondered if he could ask for more of this fascinating concoction. Suddenly he felt his hips sliding down the slippery surface of the seat he was on, headed for the floor.  He tried to adjust himself but ended up oozing sideways and his cheek met the smooth fabric of the lounge. He rested his head there a moment while Dinah and Oliver cracked up. He didn’t even notice the flash of Dinah’s phone taking another photo for posterity.

*~*~*~*~*

Upstairs, in the suite, Diana had decided to be bold and had wrapped an arm around Bruce’s shoulders. The man rested his head on her shoulder and sighed “Diana”. Little did she realise that Bruce was bracing himself to tell her the words that would break her heart.

Instead, her hand gave a little squeeze to encourage the billionaire. “Bruce, I think you’ve had too much to drink,” she said.

“Trueser *ahem* truer words were never shpoken, Princessssss,” he said wistfully. She smirked and pulled him a little closer. “Di Diana,” Bruce began “you know... I’ve have nothings but the utmost resh rish respect for you,” he slurred. Diana felt her heart race. “And I you, Bruce,” she answered confidently. 

“I’d never do ansyssy anear anything to hurt you,” Bruce struggled with the words he wanted to say. 

“Shh Bruce, I understand,” and Diana pressed a finger to his lips in much the same way Bruce had done to Harold Cranson earlier in the evening.  Bruce’s lips moved against her finger, murmuring unheard words against her skin. Diana used her finger to ever so lightly push Bruce’s face backwards into her arm, making him look up at her.  She slowly leaned down towards her goal.

Bruce was trying to focus. He was trying to get the words he needed to say out but his lips weren’t working. Distantly, he heard Diana’s words. Oh thank fuck, he thought. She must have caught on that he didn’t feel that way about her. He began to relax. A warm pressure on his lips made him think about Clark and he smirked. His mind drifted away from his current predicament and he began to remember how those Kryptonian lips had felt against his own. His heart beat a little faster and his eyes closed.

Diana gazed down at the handsome face, and the smile that grew against her finger pressed against plush lips. Part of her knew it was wrong to take advantage of Bruce’s inebriated state, but she was unable to resist. She continued to bring her face closer to Bruce’s. He was smiling as she slid her finger away. Her dark hair fell forward and wrapped them both in a curtain that blocked out the light. Diana stopped a centimetre away from those longed for lips. Bruce was very drunk but was looking so sexy at that moment. She experienced a rush of adrenaline as she closed the distance.

Warm lips were on Bruce’s. He was thinking of Clark, his mind supplied him with the images of the Boy Scout, and he moved to respond. There was something different about them. Bruce frowned a little but a moist tongue licked slowly into his mouth.  All Bruce could think about was earlier, when he and Clark had been kissing so passionately. He opened himself up as his body flushed with the memory. He moved his hand but there was something in the way. Ignoring it, he moved into the kiss.

*~*~*~*~*

Clark sat bolt upright. Something wasn’t right. The feeling in his gut and the pressure in his head seemed to be suddenly screaming at him. Maybe it was the wine. He cast his eyes around fuzzily. Dinah and Oliver were still seated nearby and giggling like teenagers. Where was Bruce? He gazed at the figures moving on the dance floor and tried to use his vision to see past them to the balcony. The feeling in his head seemed to expand, pushing outwards and making it hard to focus.

“Where’s Bruce?” He asked.

Oliver shrugged his shoulders. Dinah leaned forward. “I think he’s on the balcony with Diana,” she said with a smirk. Clark frowned. He pushed his vision towards the balcony once more with slightly more success. 

“I don’t see them,” his voice wavered as he spoke. The small amount of ‘Space Wine’ he had consumed seemed to be making his tongue thick. A painful clench in his stomach had him gasping for air. The pounding in his head increased and his breath came in short wheezing heaves. Oliver and Dinah sat forward immediately, noticing his discomfort.

“Are you alright Clark?” Oliver asked quickly. Dinah reached to put a hand on his knee and Clark visibly flinched. Oliver immediately stood and moved to Clark’s side. “Clark? Clark, can you hear me? Nod if you can,” the archer asked clearly. Clark gave a wobbly nod and Oliver took hold of his friend’s shoulders. “OK, are you in distress?” 

Clark shook his head and nodded at the same time. “Bruce,” he whimpered. 

“I’ll go and get him for you, Clark. You stay right here with Dinah. Everything is going to be fine, Clark.” Oliver shot a hasty glance at Dinah who nodded and moved to sit next to Clark. Oliver headed to the balcony at a brisk pace. It didn’t take him long to realise the pair he was searching for were nowhere to be seen. He swiftly returned inside and was soon back with his girlfriend, and a distinctly green looking Clark.

Oliver leaned down to whisper to Dinah, “They’re not out there.”

Clark heard and whipped his head around abruptly, causing him to lose his balance for a moment. He closed his eyes and listened. The noise of the music and the people filling the room overwhelmed him for a few seconds but it soon dropped away as he began to listen for a distinctive heartbeat. He found it on the top floor, beating wildly. 

“They’re upstairs. His heart rate is up Oliver. He could be in trouble.” Clark was clearly agitated as he spoke.

Dinah’s hands gripped Clark’s own tightly. “He could be with Diana, you might not want to interrupt them,” she said.

Oliver saw the panic begin to rise in the reporter’s eyes. “Not good,” the archer said lowly. Dinah looked at her boyfriend in confusion. 

“One of you will tell me what’s going on or so help me….” she left the threat unfinished. 

“Little Bird, Bruce isn’t interested in Diana like that. He likes someone else and that’s all I can say,” he said, with his hands placed gently on either side her face. He stared into her eyes so she could see the earnestness of his words. 

“Bruce,” Clark mumbled. As Oliver and Dinah turned to him, he stood up and knocked the table over, sending glasses flying across the floor. He started to stumble towards the elevator. Both Oliver and Dinah rushed to grab the various things belonging to the group and hurried after him. They caught up with Clark just as security was about to intercept the Kryptonian.  

They herded him to the elevator and were soon safely inside.  

“What’s going on,” Dinah hissed. Oliver monitored Clark who was leaning against the interior of the lift, looking for all the world like he was going to burst into tears, or vomit, or both. Dinah noted Oliver’s concern for Clark. She also saw how sick Clark appeared. She remembered his mumbled call for Bruce. Her eyes widened as she put two and two together. She opened her mouth to speak to Oliver but he just shook his head at her. The elevator progressed slowly, and the passengers were all wishing it would hurry up.

*~*~*~*~*

Bruce was frowning. This wasn’t right. He was thinking of Clark as he was kissing, and being kissed in return. But it was different. Something was off. He tried to open his eyes but was surrounded by darkness. The feeling in his head was one of distress and he didn’t understand it. The tautness in his abdomen was rattling and felt out of sync. He tried to move his head backwards but there was nowhere for it to go. He pressed forward and heard a small moan, a feminine moan. A feeling of panic started to rise up inside him. A small drunken  whimper escaped his lips. He couldn’t place what it was that felt wrong. Clark didn’t give him this sensation when they kissed. It had taken him a while, but he had finally accepted how right it was to be with Clark. What was happening right now not feel right.

Diana was kissing Bruce, and he responded. His lips moved on hers and she pressed forward. His hand had lifted to tangle in her hair and she slid her body even closer. She heard him make a small noise, and thinking it to be pleasure, she curled her hand around his neck. Her other hand slid up inside his shirt and she felt him tense. Believing Bruce to be in the throes of passion, she was close to climbing into the billionaire’s lap. She was happy. She finally had her heart’s desire. Bruce was kissing her and she was enjoying it very much. 

*~*~*~*~*

The elevator doors finally opened and Clark lumbered down the hallway. Oliver was thankful that the Kryptonian didn’t use his superspeed, but wasn’t pleased when Clark plowed through the door to Bruce’s suite. Thankfully, it was only the lock that gave and not the door splintering into a pile of wood. Oliver thought the lock may still be functional because it was magnetic and not an old school metal bar. That was when Oliver saw Clark come to a complete stop in the middle of the entrance.

Peeking around the broad shoulders that were as still as a statue, he saw what had halted the journalist. Oliver’s eyes widened. There was Diana, practically pinning Bruce down onto the seating. He couldn’t see Bruce’s face but he could read body language well enough. Bruce was confused and had started to struggle to get out from under the powerful Amazonian.

Dinah nearly plowed straight into her boyfriend’s stationary body. Both Oliver and Clark were well muscled, so she couldn’t see what they were staring at. She moved around to the small space at the side of the men, only to gasp. Glancing back at Oliver and Clark, she realised what an awful mistake she had made. She had encouraged Diana all this time when it seemed that Bruce liked…. Well, she couldn’t say for sure, but she was confident that what she had been missing was that Clark and Bruce were….. She had to fix this. Guilt swelled up inside her. This mess was all her fault and people were getting hurt because of it, because of her. A lump in her throat nearly became tears as all these realisations took place.

Oliver was watching her and he must have seen her guilty expression because his eyes softened. “Come on Little Bird,” he said and at that moment, Dinah loved him even more.

Clark stood there transfixed. Bruce and Diana were kissing. The pain inside him was magnified. It was like his stomach was about to be pulled out of his body and his head wanted to explode. His heart felt like it was shattering. 

“Bruce” the single word left his lips and echoed heavily around the room.

Bruce heard Clark’s voice. He couldn’t make sense of what was happening. Was it Clark or not that was with him. It didn’t feel like Clark but he had just heard him. His mind spun in circles. He had started to feel trapped and was struggling to sit up, but seemed to be pinned by a greater force. 

Diana stilled. She heard the door behind her and the sound of Bruce’s name. Sudden fury rose inside her. Who would dare? With a last lick into Bruce’s mouth, she lifted her head up slowly. Bruce’s face showed confusion. Diana had to admit she was confused by the intrusion too. She spun to face the small gathering with a scowl. She was very surprised to see Dinah, Oliver and Clark. Her anger faded fast as she took in their shock. Dinah had one hand reaching out towards her, Oliver swiftly looked away but it was the expression on Clark’s face that had Diana inhaling quickly. The man seemed like he was in genuine pain was going to throw up. 

Dinah saw the confusion on her friend’s face and went to step forward but she was rooted to the spot. “Diana, I’m so sorry,” she murmured. Her heart broke for her friend and for Clark. Bruce was still struggling to sit upright. Dinah felt the terrible guilt eat away inside her. How was she going to make this right? Her friends would never forgive her. A small sob escaped her lips.

Bruce finally managed to sit up. The room was spinning and his vision was hazy. The inside of his skull was pounding and the intense feeling in his stomach was similar to nausea. He tried to focus on what was happening. The first thing his gaze landed on was Clark. The buzz inside his skull intensified, as he slowly tried to put the pieces together.

If Clark was standing in the middle of the room, who was Bruce kissing? A dawning sense of horror filled him as he turned his head towards Diana. A hand lifted to his lips. Shit! Inner turmoil became a storm. Shit shit shit!!! This was why he didn’t drink, this is why he insisted on control at all times. This was a complete mess on every level he was capable of thinking about at that moment.  

Diana searched Dinah’s face once more, and with a dread filling her, turned back to take in Bruce’s state. The expression on his face as he touched his lips made a heat rise in Diana’s cheeks. She had obviously misread the situation. But why had Bruce kissed her in return? She was more confused than ever. She stood abruptly, took in again the visages on her friend’s faces and simply fled the suite. Moisture gathered at the edge of her vision, her breathing was ragged, as she repeatedly stabbed the call button for the elevator. Humiliation filled her and she tried not to let hot tears fall. Instead she let one hand smack open palmed against the steel doors. It wasn’t enough to take the edge off but she also didn’t want to use her strength to damage the mechanism. Diana stood there helplessly, waiting for the elevator to take her away from the scene.

Dinah watched as Diana retreated from the suite and whispered to Oliver, “I’ll go to her. I’ll explain somehow. I’ll fix this Ollie.” There was a desperate note to her voice. Oliver squeezed her hand and nodded. As Dinah left to catch up with the Princess, Oliver walked over to the bar to get some water for everyone. Clark hadn’t moved but the green pallor to his cheeks had remained. Bruce was looking around the room with glazed eyes.

“What… just happened?” Bruce asked. His voice was unsteady as his eyes landed on Clark. He moved to stand up but fell back against the lounge. Clark took a hesitant step forward, right into a chair that skidded across the room. The loud, unexpected noise made everyone flinch. Bruce ran a shaky hand through his hair. 

“Why were you….?” Clark began to ask. He stopped when he saw Bruce’s confusion. “Did you kiss Diana?”

Bruce’s head whipped up towards the blurry figure of Clark. He clearly heard the question but as he tried to form words, his mouth dried up. He’d kissed Diana. Fuck! He dropped his head into trembling hands. This was bad. He had intended to explain, once again, that he wasn’t interested in Diana as anything other than a good friend and fellow Leaguer. Dammit! 

Oliver was trying to think fast. Bruce had said downstairs that he was going to set the Amazonian straight. His current demeanour indicated that he wasn’t responsible for the kiss they had witnessed, and he figured their wine had a large role to play in the sequence of events. He wasn’t as drunk as Bruce, and yet he could feel how strong the effects were. Bruce had practically slammed down his last few glasses. It had also affected Clark on a different level again. Oliver couldn’t help but feel a certain degree of responsibility for all of this, and knew that Dinah would be beating herself up over it. He had to act before the situation became another mess, like before the carnival.

Clark felt like he couldn’t move. His emotions were in turmoil, and his reactions suffered for it. He was hot and cold at the same time. There was a heaviness that couldn’t be explained. Clark felt the complete opposite of his earlier flight of joy. A part of his brain reminded himself that Diana’s reaction, and Bruce’s own confusion, meant that whatever had occurred between the two wasn’t planned by the billionaire. He really didn’t want it to look like it was Bruce’s fault, but he couldn’t deny what he had seen.

Clark’s knees gave out and he fell heavily to the floor. His breathing was shallow and harsh, and he couldn’t keep his focus. Was this an anxiety attack? Clark had read about them, sure, but never experienced one. There were hands on his arms and he glanced up into Oliver’s eyes. Ollie appeared to be really worried so Clark tried to smile and reassure his friend, but it mustn’t have worked. Oliver cracked open a bottle of water and passed it to him. He tried to lift it to his lips but he was shaking. Oliver ended up guiding the water to his mouth and Clark managed a few gulps. Oliver’s voice finally made it past the heartbeat that filled his hearing.

“Clark, can you hear me? Clark?” Oliver was worried. The only time he’d ever seen Clark like this was when in close proximity to Kryptonite. Glancing over at Bruce didn’t reassure him. Bruce had gone white as a sheet. He also seemed to be struggling to breathe and had his head lowered right down between his knees. Oliver was not going to panic. He paused to try and think this through logically. Firstly, it had been pretty obvious to him that Bruce hadn’t kissed Diana by choice. Consent, his mind echoed hollowly. He put that to the side momentarily, although it would have to be addressed with Diana later. What was more important was happening right now. The strange connection the two men seemed to be sharing, as evidenced by that day in the parlour, seemed to be working against them. Oliver figured that if he could soothe one, the other might settle down. Bruce seemed to have things barely under control and was in a classic recovery position, despite being drunk.  So it was left to Oliver to get Clark to calm down. How does one settle a Kryptonian when he didn’t have a real clue as to what was happening? He resumed his focus on Clark and tried to encourage some breathing techniques.

Bruce could hear Oliver talking to Clark. There was an unusual pressure in his chest and he couldn’t get enough air. Although he had lowered his head, he still felt nauseous and was trying to stop the acidic taste in his throat from becoming more. He was attempting to use his meditative techniques to get his body under control, but the alcohol was contributing to his inability to concentrate and he was struggling. It was very unfamiliar to him. Bruce could control almost all aspects of his mind and body. His lungs refused to cooperate and he wasn’t improving. He could feel a rising panic from deep within but wasn’t entirely sure it was his own. Bruce closed his eyes and tried to focus on breathing. His booze addled brain wasn’t functioning normally. He could only continue his efforts to calm himself and hope that whatever was causing the nauseating sensations would soon pass.

Clark was feeling out of control. His vision kept slipping from normal to x-ray vision, and he kept getting glimpses of Oliver’s skull. He definitely felt sick, like he was going to vomit any second. His thought processes continued to be all muddled up and his emotions weren’t any better. This was strange territory to the normally invulnerable Kryptonian. Clark’s eyes slid to Bruce and he was shocked to see the usually stoic man in obvious distress. That seemed to sober him up instantly. All his worry and concern shifted to Bruce. Clark could hear the rapid heart-beat and the harsh intake of air as Bruce seemed to gulp at the oxygen, to try and fill his lungs. The strange connection between them was pulling and twisting in his gut. The feeling that he was going to throw up was tangled with a twang that felt distinctly off. Oliver waved a hand in front of his face, which snapped him back to reality.

“Clark? Come on big guy,” Oliver spoke reassuringly “just listen to my voice and breathe normally. You gotta tell me what your normal breathing is because I don’t think you’re doing it right now. Clark?”

Clark nodded and whispered, “Bruce.” 

Oliver glanced over and Bruce’s head had jerked up at the sound of his name. The mix of confusion was certainly out of place on the Bat’s face. For someone who was usually stoic, ordered and in control of every situation, Bruce certainly looked out of his depth. 

“I didn’t….” Bruce began. His eyes locked onto Clark’s and their breathing seemed to synchronize. The shallow panting began to even out, although Bruce still felt he wasn’t getting enough air into him. Clark’s blue eyes were so deep, Bruce was sure he would drown in them. Clark seemed to be calming but Bruce knew he needed to talk, to try and explain. “I only…. Wanted to talk…. To tell her that I wasn’t….” Bruce fixated on the words, trying to ensure they came out clearly. He had failed spectacularly with Diana and he couldn’t let the same thing happen with Clark. 

“It’s ok Bruce,” Clark said quietly. The effects of the alcohol were wearing off quickly, and his brain seemed to be working again. Logically, he realised that Bruce’s distress and confusion meant he hadn’t been aware of Diana. As he continued to gaze at the man seated across from him, he became surer and surer that it was some kind of misunderstanding.

Oliver watched as the Man of Steel pulled himself together. Clark’s breathing seemed to settle so he pushed the water towards the Kryptonian once more. Clark’s eyes flickered to Ollie and he took a large gulp of the water. He quickly handed the bottle back and stood slowly. Oliver stood with him and offered him a supportive arm. 

Clark was grateful as he briefly lurched to the side one more. “It’s ok now, I think,” he mumbled. He made his way over to Bruce and flopped down next to him on the lounge. He wrapped his arms around the trembling shoulders. Bruce’s head was immediately buried into Clark’s neck and Clark felt the man heave a big sigh. “I’m here Bruce, everything is alright,” Clark said quietly.

Relief washed over Bruce in a wave. Clark was here and speaking with him, and he could smell Clark’s unique scent, he felt less confused. His breathing evened out and he eventually lifted his head away to see Clark give him a tremulous smile. 

“Clark,” he whispered “It wasn’t meant to happen.” His heart was fluttering, and the nausea was dissipating, along with the thumping inside his head. He dropped his head back onto Clark’s neck and felt himself almost sob out loud. This could have gone so wrong, Clark could have easily misinterpreted the situation. Bruce felt a sense of guilt because he had kissed Diana in return.

Oliver stood nearby and chugged from his bottle of water.  “If you two are going to be ok, I’ll go and check on the girls.”  Clark nodded his head and Bruce just huffed a deep breath. Oliver collected his phone from the bar and made sure that he grabbed Diana’s bag. He didn’t think the Princess would want to come to collect it tonight. 

Oliver was concerned at how these events would affect the Trinity but was confident that the whole thing could be explained once everyone had clearer heads. He made his way to the door but before stepping out, he glanced back at the two men once more.  Bruce had gone limp as Clark ran his fingers through Bruce’s hair.  Clark looked up and caught his eye. Oliver raised an eyebrow in question, checking one final time that the pair was alright. Clark nodded slightly. With a cheeky wink, he pulled the door closed behind him and heard the magnetic lock reengage. At least it wasn’t broken, he thought gratefully.

Oliver slowly made his way to the room he was sharing with Dinah, not sure if the two women would be there or in Diana’s room. He discovered that the pair were not in his suite and decided to let Dinah deal with it. She had, after all, been the one to encourage this whole mess and he was confident that she would be able to console the Amazonian. He flopped on his bed to wait before promptly falling asleep.

*~*~*~*~*

Clark was attempting to soothe Bruce who seemed somewhat agitated. Bruce kept trying to explain himself, but Clark didn’t need to hear the words. That feeling inside him was reassuring him more than words ever could. Bruce’s breath blew softly on his neck as he tried to speak. Clark smiled and shushed him again. He gently kissed Bruce’s temple and felt the man go completely limp as all the remaining tension left. He smiled and gently pulled the man closer.

Bruce felt Clark’s gentle ministrations and made the decision to just stop thinking. His brain hurt and the pulling in his gut was almost gone. He was comfortable at last. He could breathe normally but the tingling in his body from the wine hadn’t let up. Whether it was Clark’s touch, or the quiet words the Kryptonian spoke to him, he was relaxing against the alien warmth. It was at that point that the night, the stress, the alcohol, the dancing and Clark himself, all caught up with the billionaire. 

Bruce simply passed out.

 

*~*~*~*~*


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Bat has passed out in Clark’s arms.
> 
> Clark has his hands full.  
> What's a Kryptonian to do?
> 
> Diana feels the burn.
> 
> Dinah begins the journey to make things right.
> 
> Bruce realises the truth at last. 
> 
> Will he allow nature to take it’s course, or will his stubbornness strike once more?
> 
> Will someone sit these dorks down and make them talk to each other?
> 
> *~*~*~*~*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're coming to the end of the Gala Arc.  
> You know what that means, right?  
> Back to the plot!!
> 
> This chapter wasn't Beta'd before posting, so all errors are mine.
> 
> A bit of a milestone coming up for this story.  
> On the 2nd it will be 3 months since I started posting it.  
> Very nearly at 100k words too.  
> I never quite realised what I was taking on with a long fic, but I wouldn't change it for the world.
> 
> To everyone that has left kudos or comments, a Huge Thankyou!!!  
> It's what keeps me going when it gets tough.
> 
> *shares a massive plate of Alfred's home made cookies with you all.*
> 
> As always, Enjoy!!!
> 
> *~*~*~*~*

*~*~*~*~*

The Gala Interlude.

Part 11

*~*~*~*~*

Kal looked down at the man sprawled out on the lounge. Even in this state, Bruce is gorgeous. Clark subconsciously licked his lips. Despite everything that had happened between them previously, he couldn’t help but feel tentative. Should he wake Bruce, or just take him into the bedroom to sleep it off.

Bruce, or rather Batman, never seemed to get enough rest. Always running from one emergency to another, or doing research of some description. Clark really didn’t want to disturb any much needed respite Bruce might receive. 

Clark was seated on the lounge next to where he had lain the unconscious man down on the cushions. He reached out to brush the messy bangs away from the billionaire’s forehead. His fingertips tingled at the touch, a spark of connectivity travelled through his body and Bruce shifted ever so slightly. Clark’s hand grazed across a cheek, the shadow of new growth graced the sharp jaw. Bruce’s head tilted to rub against his hand and a smile played across those luscious lips.

“Mmmmmm” rumbled from deep in Bruce’s chest.

Clark’s eyes widened. There was that connection again, it seemed to sing from deep inside. It pulled at him, drawing him closer. Bruce’s response to his touch implied that it was mutual. As Clark’s lips lingered mere centimetres from Bruce’s, he heard a single word hidden in a breathy exhale.

“Kal”

Clark felt a snap inside himself and he leaned forward to brush his lips against Bruce’s.  It was a simple kiss, chaste, but full of all the love he held in his heart. Bruce smiled against his mouth and that clever tongue flicked out against Clark’s top lip. Clark’s whole body shuddered. The sensation inside crested and he spiralled down into it’s depths willingly.

Bruce’s eyes opened slowly, and Clark saw them light up at seeing him. He felt himself lost to the arctic blue rings peeking from behind dark pupils. Clark’s breath caught in his throat as Bruce deepened the kiss, sweeping into Clark’s mouth. A moan escaped him and Bruce seemed to swallow it down. He twisted slightly and leaned his body forward, pressing their chests together. The contact sent reverberations through him and Clark lifted his hand up into Bruce’s dark hair. Bruce’s head tilted and the kiss turned fierce, the billionaire’s lips crushed against his own. As he’d thought to himself on previous occasions, kissing Bruce Wayne was a revelation and no one could ever hope to match the pure joy that exploded within. He surged against the man and hungrily devoured all that he was offered.

Clark wanted more. He felt the spark of desire grow inside him and that ever present thrumming ratchet up. Clark floated himself up, keeping their lips connected, until he was lying along the full length of the lithe body he so desired. Bruce’s hips thrust upwards, pressing an obvious erection against him. Clark’s insides ignited with incandescent fire. A flare erupted from within his stomach and his head spun like a tropical cyclone. He tangled their legs together and began to rock his hips. Bruce’s hand slid down to cup his ass and squeezed. The touch sent tremors throughout his body. Clark shifted against Bruce’s hardness, feeling his own need blaze up further. His hands roamed against Bruce’s body, gliding underneath the white tuxedo shirt. With the tie and accoutrements already long gone, and the shirt mostly unbuttoned, Bruce’s bare flesh slid beneath his fingertips. Bruce shifted to grab Clark’s shirt and pulled him in tighter.

“Kal… I need you… please?” Was whispered against his lips.

“Yes Bruce, yes,” he murmured. His eyes very nearly fluttered closed as he became adrift in a sea of intense desire and love.

Bruce arched up into him and Clark hiked the shirt up as high as it would go. With a sudden wrench, Bruce pulled his own shirt open to expose a battle scarred torso. The few remaining buttons went flying across the carpet. Craning his neck, Clark started making his way down. Stopping to nuzzle where neck joined shoulder, up behind the ear that Bruce liked so much, and sweeping down across collarbones. He licked, nipped and sucked the dips and hollows. Taking one raised nipple into his mouth, he swirled his tongue around the nub.

Bruce’s thin whines of pleasure made his cock twitch. Clark shifted until his hands could reach for the fine Italian leather belt wrapped around the tapered waist. A quick flick had the buckle undone, and Clark went directly for the fastening and zip. Bruce’s hips kept thrusting up towards him. He was so hard and panting in response to the delicious friction between them. Clark licked a long line down the side of Bruce’s ribcage, and across to dip into his navel. Long fingers were tangled in his hair, tugging and pushing, and he loved it. His own moans were pressed into the skin beneath his lips.

Clark wrapped an arm behind Bruce’s lower back and lifted that tight ass away from the surface they were stretched over. Using his other hand, he pulled until the black pants were down past the perfect butt. Sliding the hand around, he ensured the expensive suit wouldn’t tear as he leveraged them over Bruce’s erection straining against silk boxers.

Bruce’s moans were getting more and more intense. Clark moved up quickly to take the slightly parted lips with his own. Open mouthed kisses, tongues dancing together, were almost too much to bear. He felt himself going a little crazy as heat filled him, radiating from his core to his extremities. 

Bruce’s hands groped to get under Clark’s suit, pulling his shirt out from his pants and Clark wanted to press as much of their bare flesh together as possible. Both men’s hands were a flurry of activity, removing as many obstacles in their way as possible. Bruce managed to toe off his shoes, Clark shuffled off his jacket and only to get his nipples pinched in the process.  Using super speed, Clark removed Bruce’s tuxedo pants entirely.  His own shirt was torn open and his tie lost to the breeze that blew in from the open sliding doors of the balcony.

“Clark” Bruce whispered “Bedroom. Now”

Grinning against those enticing lips, Clark wrapped one arm around Bruce’s lower back once more and cradled the back of the billionaire’s head with the other. As soon as Bruce’s body was off the lounge, he flipped them but stayed horizontal so the gorgeous man was sprawled on top of him.

Bruce immediately used gravity to his advantage and was grinding down on him fiercely. The fine white shirt Bruce was barely wearing fluttered down to the floor. They didn’t stop kissing as Clark floated them into the bedroom. There was a wildness that threatened to inundate and overtake him. He hovered above the bed, enjoying the sensation of Bruce’s muscles and lips pressed down on him.  Bruce never let up the rhythm of those hips, and was panting shallowly against his mouth. Their tongues intertwined against each other.

Clark grinned and flipped in the air once more, letting the billionaire fall the short distance to the bed. Bruce was momentarily disorientated as Clark looked down at the gorgeous man. Bruce just lay there looking up at Clark with a smile curling the edges of those kiss reddened lips. One hand travelled down pectorals and began sliding across prominent abdominals until it reached the waistband of the black boxers.

Clark couldn’t take his hungry gaze away and kicked off his shoes from midair. As they landed with a thunk, Bruce’s hand crept inside the underwear and began a languid stroke on the blood filled cock. The other arm was bent back behind the dark hair fanning across the pillow. Bruce arched his back, and spread his muscled legs slightly.

“Clark,” the voice was low and husky.

Clark couldn’t take anymore teasing. Within seconds the remaining clothes on his body were gone and he watched Bruce’s eyes blow out with lust.

Bruce’s hand from behind his head, slid around to the front, and stroked at the long expanse of neck. The man then nipped at his own fingers before licking them one at a time. Clark’s cock flexed and Bruce smirked. Clark dove for the bed. Their bodies slammed together and Bruce wrapped his arms and legs around him. Filthy kisses and needy noises filled the room. Bruce was still wearing his boxers, while Clark was naked.

Clark sat up between Bruce’s thighs and asked “Are you particularly attached to these?” as he touched the waistband.

Bruce leaned up on his elbows “Not at all”. Arctic blue sparkled mischievously behind half lidded eyelids and a smirk curled the at edge of the expressive mouth.

Clark grinned and parted the material right down the middle with ease, and Bruce’s cock sprang free. As Clark removed the rest of the fabric, he lifted Bruce’s legs high into the air, pulling the billionaire down the bed and closer to him.

Bruce barely had his shoulders on the mattress when Clark licked firmly against the perineum. Vibrating his tongue against the sensitive area, making Bruce keen with pleasure.

Bruce’s arms flailed and tried to find purchase, only to get a fist full of sheets.

“Clark,” he panted, “if you don’t stop, I’ll…” the words were left unfinished.

Clark let the gorgeous man fall back to the bed and leaned forward to join their lips once more. Bruce’s breaths were hitched and ragged as Clark ground himself up against naked flesh. Clark felt the whole inside of him shift, like a car changing gears, like an addict getting a hit, Clark felt his entire body sing. His hands continued to explore Bruce and his mouth followed, his tongue laving against the various scars and welts across the broad expanse of skin. The taste in his mouth was better than the wine, better than anything he had ever experienced. He couldn’t get enough. Bruce’s groans encouraged him as he turned the man every which way for better access. 

When he had Bruce face down on the bed, he licked into the dip of muscle on Bruce’s ass cheek. Clark felt Bruce clench so he brought both hands sliding down from the flanks to the hips, over ass cheeks spread briefly so Clark could blow cool air onto Bruce’s exposed hole, then continued down until they came to rest on the back of Bruce’s thighs. Clark inexorably parted the muscled legs and lowered his face until his tongue flicked at Bruce’s quivering entrance. Bruce groaned heavily. Clark’s cock flexed in response.

Bruce was completely exposed. The change in temperature, from icy cold air to a hot wet tongue had him feeling so needy and wanton. His fists grabbed the sheets under him as Clark’s mouth connected and he felt the incandescent heat lick inside him. The ring of muscles contracted and flexed, and Bruce was pushing himself back onto Clark’s face. He felt the heat travel up his spine until his face was flushed with pleasure. Clark seemed to be humming happily as the tongue intensified its explorations.  Bruce rubbed his face against the sheets, trying to hold in the strangled noises that wanted to escape.  Clark’s unique tongue pressed all the way in. It was more flexible than any humans and Bruce felt himself trembling in response. Oh god, he thought. He didn’t know how much he could take. The buzzing in his abdomen was almost enough to make his teeth chatter. His head felt like it was full of twin sensations. As if he could somehow sense Clark’s pleasure too. It only intensified his own, until he thought he would burst apart at the seams.

“Clark, I need you in me. NOW!” Bruce shouted the last word.

Clark continued a few moments longer, feeling high on lust and excitement. His hearing caught how Bruce’s heart was racing in perfect cadence with his own. It was a heady experience. He licked his way up the crack of Bruce’s ass, up the ridges of the spine, moving his body to cover Bruce completely. His tongue reached Bruce’s neck and he began to suck at the spot behind Bruce’s ear that seemed to make the billionaire go crazy. A muffled moan came from within the bedding as Clark ground his cock against Bruce’s ass. It was reminiscent of the earlier incident in the shower.  This time, Clark meant to have all of it.

“Do you have any…..” Clark started to ask.  

He was quickly interrupted by Bruce’s response.

“In the bedside,” the hoarse voice rasped.

Clark grinned as he moved at lightspeed to get the required item. He was kneeling between Bruce’s thighs, staring down at the quivering man, watching his own saliva glisten in the low light around Bruce’s entrance. Popping the cap of the bottle he watched a slow drop land with precision, right where he wanted it. He squeezed the bottle and fixated on the drizzle that landed along Bruce’s ass crack.  Closing the lid and dropping the lube onto the bed, he extended a single finger to trace along the liquid path. Bruce’s ass clenched around him and the man moaned wantonly with an edge of desperation. Clark was thrilled as he circled the entrance Bruce pushed up against him and his finger slipped inside easily. Clark smiled broadly at the noises Bruce was making. He started to curl his finger and explore the inner ring of muscle. Bruce kept moving on the bed so Clark’s other hand grabbed and held the man in place. Clark was teasing mercilessly at this point. 

“Clark!” came the strangled cry.

Clark slipped in a second finger and began stretching the muscles carefully. He would brush over the prostate and Bruce would tense and shudder under him. The smile on his face was irrepressible. After careful minutes and Bruce clamouring for more, he finally added a third finger. Bruce’s inhale when it joined the other digits sounded loud in his ears. A full body clench accompanied Bruce’s keen. Clark moved cautiously but Bruce was having none of it, or so it seemed as he tried to push back again. He had Bruce pinned to the bed and Clark was in complete control. It was exhilarating.

Bruce was shaking now. The hand on his hip held firm despite his efforts to move. His head was twisting from side to side as he felt himself slowly opened up. It was the best kind of torture. He secretly loved that Clark was using super strength to contain him. His mind was awash in a haze of lust. He wanted all of Clark. The fingers inside him pressed against his prostate and he bit into the bedding underneath him to keep from screaming out. His own cock was not getting any friction and was immobile under his body, but it didn’t stop the desperate ache or the throbbing of blood as it pounded through his veins. 

Without warning Clark vibrated his fingers inside him and he involuntarily orgasmed -  hard! He felt every spurt of warmth escaping and pooling under him. His muscles tightened viciously and he strained against the fingers inside him. Clark slowed his movements and pulled out gently. Bruce had nearly whited out in bliss. He felt himself turned over and he tried to look at Clark. 

The Kryptonian had other ideas as an inhumanly hot tongue cleaned his groin, lapping every drop from his skin. Bruce felt the moist warmth caressing him. Clark seemed disinclined to stop despite Bruce pulling at his hair. When Clark sucked his now flaccid cock into his mouth, Bruce gasped aloud. He had never considered his own refractory rate before, but the fire wrapped around his length was definitely getting a reaction. It was a slow hardening but Clark didn’t let up. Bruce’s glazed eyes watched the black hair bobbing on his swelling dick. He bent his knees up around Clark’s ears and cerulean blues eyes flickered up to meet his own. Bruce’s breath hitched and caught in his throat when he saw Clark smouldering at him from around his increasingly growing erection. 

Without realising it, his hand reached out and caressed Clark’s cheek. Clark hummed and his cock twitched with more interest. When Clark’s hands caressed his legs and stopped at his ankles, he wasn’t sure what the boy scout had in mind. The large hands wrapped all the way around his joints, and began to lift and push. Bruce’s knees were almost touching his chest by the time Clark stopped. He was fully hard again, with a different kind of intensity. Clark finally lifted off his cock with a noisy pop. Bruce watched as Clark seemed to slide up the bed until their lips were melded together once more. He felt those large hands move off his legs but there was no way he could shift position, he was pinned in place. Clark was firmly entrenched between his thighs and Bruce felt the large erection pressing flush against his own. His chest rumbled with a tight sound as Bruce’s mouth was invaded. Clark’s hands twined around his wrists and they were held down against the ruined sheets. When Clark’s whole body started to grind against him, he couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Clark,” he gritted out, “Please Clark, fuck me, fuck me Kal!”

Clark felt a tremor wrack his body as Bruce used his names and spoke the filthy words.  

“With pleasure,” he hummed into the mouth he was exploring. One hand flickered with superspeed and Clark had coated himself and Bruce with more lube.

Clark’s tongue swept back in to press against Bruce’s. He held Bruce’s hands in place and canted his hips until his slicked up cock was lined up against Bruce’s wet hole. Although Bruce was trying to buck up against him, he had no room left to do so. Clark appreciated the flexibility of the body he was about to take. Clark pushed his hips forward as slowly as he could. The muscles around his cock clenched and released rhythmically as he slid home. He waited a few moments as he felt Bruce relax and adjust around him. 

“Are you ready?” Clark breathed into Bruce’s mouth.

Bruce only nodded as he panted shallowly. Clark inhaled each puff of air into himself and began to rock his hips. Bruce tensed for a moment before sighing 

“God yes, Clark.” 

As they became joined together, the vibrations in Clark’s stomach began to reverberate up and down his spine, until they met up with the intense sensations in his mind. He leaned back a little to look at the face below him. Bruce’s lips were slightly parted, the eyes half lidded as the billionaire arched into him. Clark fell upon Bruce once more, taking his mouth with a fierce intensity. He began to thrust in and out, his hips in sync with his tongue. Bruce seemed to love it. As his strokes grew long and deep, Bruce’s moans became more guttural and demanding. Every sound emanating from the man just spurred him on. 

“More!” Bruce commanded, “Fuck Clark, move!”

Clark shifted until he was more upright and pulled one of Bruce’s legs up over his shoulder. He held it there in an unbreakable grip, while the other hand rested on Bruce’s hip. As he increased his pace, he also shifted Bruce back and forth onto his length. The speed rapidly ramped up. Clark cheated and used his X-Ray vision to ensure he hit Bruce’s prostate on every thrust. Pulling his vision back, he saw Bruce’s hard cock leaking. Clark was beyond thrilled that he could elicit such a strong reaction so soon after Bruce’s last orgasm.

Clark moved, and moved Bruce in turn. Bruce was almost incoherent now. He could usually prolong round two because he was able to last longer. This didn’t seem to apply to when he was with Clark. Clark’s whole body elicited a strong drive within him. He was already getting close to that edge that would make him come again. Clark was driving into him with barely restrained power. Bruce knew this may be the best sex of his life. Every time with the Kryptonian surprised him with it’s intensity. Clark continued to thrust and Bruce finally heard the Boy Scout make noises of pleasure. Squinting his eyes, he saw the shimmer of sweat on that invulnerable body. Clark was looking straight at him without fear or hesitation. Bruce felt a tingle pass through him at the sight. A loud exhale escaped Clark’s lips and he increased the speed a little more. The grip on his hip would leave a bruise, but Bruce didn’t care. 

“Yes Clark, my Kal, yes,” he encouraged. At his words, Clark’s eyes seemed to smoulder. Bruce felt his own orgasm creeping up. He wanted to see Clark come, he wanted to see him undone and wild. His body began to shake once more as he tried to hold back.

“Come for me Clark, my gorgeous Kal, please come for me?” Bruce whispered.

Clark couldn’t hold back at the words. He pounded as hard as he dared, pistoning in and out. His balls were on fire. The coiling in his groin released with mind numbing intensity and his whole body went taut. His movement stuttered and his teeth clenched. The hand from Bruce’s hip clumsily reached for the man’s erection. His hand wrapped around the length and he tried to focus enough to vibrate his hand. Bruce gasped and, for the second time that night, came in long heavy pulses. 

Clark nearly fell forward onto Bruce. They lay panting until Clark turned his face toward Bruce’s cheek. He nuzzled at Bruce who seemed to be drifting off to sleep. He knew he should clean them up, but he needed a moment to get his bearings. Clark had never been with anyone who so thoroughly brought him to fulfillment.

“Bruce,” he whispered.

Bruce turned his head and their lips brushed. “Kal,” he replied softly, “my Kal, my Clark.” 

Clark felt himself lifted beyond joy or pleasure. His heart sang and everything felt so perfect. Bruce’s breathing started to deepen as the Gothamite drifted off. Clark was close to dozing himself, so he was shocked when he heard the tiny whispered words from Bruce.

“I Love You.”

*~*~*~*~*

Dinah made it to the elevator just as the doors were closing, with Diana inside.  She joined Diana but didn’t say a word. She gathered the Amazonian into a big hug. Dinah felt Diana’s breathing change, holding back tears. She felt so guilty for bringing this on her friend. She had to make it right. The pair stood silently, only breaking apart when the doors opened once more. 

Entering the suite, Diana walked directly to the bar and poured a large drink. She didn’t even look at the label. Taking a big swig, she grimaced at the burn. It tasted awful. Her hand gripped the glass until it shattered. Dinah came to help clean up the mess. The pair still hadn’t spoken a word. The air was stuffy with tension. Diana was feeling humiliated, angry, embarrassed and foolish. She mentally chided herself for acting out but it didn’t change the emotions that boiled inside.

After the detritus was cleared away, Dinah got a water for herself and Diana. The pair moved wordlessly to the lounge and sat next to each other. She didn’t know where to begin. Dinah had honestly thought she was supporting her friend, helping her. Knowing Bruce for as long as she had, she pushed Diana because the man was a stubborn ass. Now Dinah felt like the ass. Remembering Bruce’s words downstairs,  ‘I have told her Ollie. Repeatedly. Tonight is not the time to reiterate the fact. I have a feeling that Diana has been encouraged,’ made Dinah wince. It had been the truth, one she hadn’t seen or acknowledged until after they all arrived at Bruce’s suite. Looking at Diana, she saw that her enthusiasm to help her friend find happiness had been misplaced. She stood up abruptly and threw her hands in the air.

“Well, I really fucked up,” Dinah began, “I’m sorry Diana. I put you in a difficult situation. I never wanted any of this to end this way, truly. Please, tell me how to help you? What can I do to fix the mess I made?”

Diana rested her elbows on her knees and let her head fall into her hands. She heard Dinah clearly, but resisted replying until she had herself under better control. Tears threatened to spill from her face. She kept asking herself why. Why didn’t Bruce want to be with her? Why hadn’t she listened to her instincts? Why had she believed Dinah? Why did she try to kiss the man when he was obviously in no fit state? This last question made her feel ashamed of her actions. Taking a few deep breaths, she finally looked up at Dinah. The remorse on her friend’s face was writ plainly. 

“I don’t know Dinah,” she sighed. As the lump swelled in her throat, she drank some water. It helped a little. “I should have known better. The events in Gotham. The way Bruce always gently but firmly denied my advances. I’m regretting ever listening to you, Dinah.”

Dinah visibly flinched. “I know and I accept my responsibility Diana. I was wrong. I don’t know if you can ever forgive me, but I only wanted you to be happy.”

Diana barked a hard noise that was a cross between a sob and a laugh. “Happy?” she asked. “This is the opposite of happy, Dinah.”

Dinah returned to the lounge next to Diana. She reached out to clasp her friend’s hand and, for a moment, it felt as if Diana was going to pull away. She gripped tighter until Diana’s shoulders started to tremble. Dinah felt the worst guilt she had ever experienced in her life. She leaned in and hugged her friend fiercely. 

Diana gave up any semblance of control, and let it out. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks and she sobbed. Dinah was patting her hair and kept whispering about how sorry she was. Diana couldn’t blame Dinah completely. She was her own person and she had made poor decisions this night. How was she ever going to face Bruce again? Diana cried herself out in her friend’s arms.

*~*~*~*~*

Golden light shone in the huge windows. Bruce winced a little at the brightness. He was wrapped in warmth and felt unaccountably safe. As wakefulness crept upon him, he heard a gentle snore from next to him. That’s when the whole evening’s events came crashing back into his consciousness. The drinking, the dancing, Diana and Clark. His mind fixated on that name, Clark. With startling clarity, he remembered dancing with everyone but especially Clark. He also remembered their interlude in the somewhat secluded men’s room. Bruce recalled how he’d nearly said the words he’d felt building in his soul recently. It shocked him to his core. Did he dream saying the words after their passion filled end to the night? He couldn’t help but wonder if Clark had heard him. They were certainly out of character for him. Bruce pushed people away deliberately. However, he had never felt about anyone the way he felt about Clark. But what could he, a broken man with a mission, ever offer the embodiment of Hope? His hands wanted nothing more than to hold on as tightly as he could to the Kansas raised farmer’s son. 

Bruce had never felt such strong emotions before. He could feel a tingling sensation from both within his stomach and his head. It hadn’t been that long ago that it had been painful, and had interfered with his life as Batman. Over the course recent weeks, the uncomfortable flexing and pressure he’d felt morphed into a new experience. It transformed into love. This had been what Alfred wanted him to allow into his life. 

Bruce had rejected everything at first. The strangeness had rattled him. His lifestyle didn’t allow for such things. How wrong he had been. Right now, at this point in time, nothing felt more right. Bruce didn’t fight the reactions that rose inside him. He embraced them willingly. The only consideration was whether Clark felt the same, and as strongly, as Bruce did. Lying in the bed, he could only wish for the best outcome between them.

Bruce also had thoughts of Diana, of what had happened between himself and the Amazonian Princess intruded. He mentally flinched. It was going to be awkward until things were resolved with her. He’d tried many on many occasions to softly reject Diana’s advances. Bruce didn’t want things to be strained between them. He was somewhat concerned at what had occurred up here in the suite. He’d been compromised by the alcohol and it was unlike Diana to take advantage of anyone. Bruce was unnerved by her bold actions. 

A pang of guilt swept through him as he also remembered kissing Diana in return. He could tell himself that he was under the influence, but he was also a grown man responsible for his own behaviour. Wine or not, he had given mixed messages throughout the Gala. Diana deserved better than that. His own feelings may not have extended towards romance, but he still cared about the Diana. He determined then and there that he would have a proper sit down conversation with her as soon as possible. He would not allow the incident to break their trust and faith in each other. As the resolution settled within, his recollections returned to Clark. That’s when the sex they’d indulged in crossed his mind once more. A smile curled the corners of his lips. 

Movement. A slight shifting of weight and a change in breathing alerted Bruce that his companion was waking. Arms gave a small squeeze and Bruce willingly responded in kind. He looked up from where his head was nuzzled against the inhumanly warm neck to see a sight that took his breath away. Tousled dark hair above slowly opening eyes imprinted itself on him deeply. Watching the blue orbs focus on him, and that unmistakable blinding smile, had him leaning forward to kiss gently at inviting lips.

“Good morning,” he whispered.

“It really is,” Clark replied.

Bruce returned his head to it’s previous position and his hands ghosted over the unmarked skin. Clark placed a gentle kiss to his temple and Bruce wanted to melt. He felt good, really good. The unique wine Oliver had plied him with didn’t appear to have left a hangover in it’s wake. His body had a few aches, but they were the good kind. He pressed himself closer to the Kryptonian in his bed and actively cuddled Clark. The naturally warmer body encouraged Bruce to drift into a semi conscious state of relaxation, and he felt at peace with his thoughts, finally.

If someone had asked Bruce a few weeks ago, if he was a cuddler; the answer would have been a definite no. Braced in super powered arms, he wasn’t so sure. It was a comfort that he hadn’t experienced for far too many years. He wanted to bask in it. As uncertain as he was about the future, he would enjoy this moment for as long as it lasted.

*~*~*~*~*


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Gala Arc comes to a close.
> 
> Clark and Bruce make plans to talk.  
> Do their plans ever turn out as expected?
> 
> Bruce apologises to Diana.
> 
> Diana apologises to Bruce.
> 
> Dinah apologises to Diana and Bruce.
> 
> Oliver is, as always, a voice of reason.
> 
> Clark gets jealous - again?
> 
> The apologies chapter, or so it seems.
> 
> Next up, the plot resumes!
> 
> *ominous music*
> 
> *~*~*~*~*
> 
> ***WARNING: This chapter contains dubious consent.*** 
> 
> *~*~*~*~*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *~*~*~*~*
> 
> I'm so sorry about the delay in posting this.  
> I have no excuses except to say I was struggling a little in parts.  
> But on the plus side, have an extra long chapter!
> 
> This is the end of the Gala Arc but not the end of the story.
> 
> Many thankyous go to the whole crew at Stardust.
> 
> To all of you that made suggestions, read throughs or edits - *hugs*  
> You are the best cheerleaders in the world.  
> Your encouragement and support are truly a treasure.
> 
> Partial Beta/Edit by VaticanSaint (undeservinghero) - go and read the story Family recently posted, and have your tissues nearby!!
> 
> *~*~*~*~*
> 
> ***WARNING: This chapter contains dubious consent.*** 
> 
> *~*~*~*~*
> 
> Please heed the warnings if you have triggers.
> 
> *~*~*~*~*
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoy!
> 
> *~*~*~*~*

*~*~*~*~*

A ping on his phone woke Bruce from the doze he was indulging himself in. Shifting his position, he reached for the device but strong arms tightened momentarily before releasing him. With a smile on his face, he leaned his back against the headboard to read the message. Oliver wanted to meet up when he was available. Bruce groaned internally. He knew that meeting Oliver would also entail seeing Dinah. After last night’s disaster, he wasn’t sure he was ready. He was still pissed at the Canary’s interference.

Clark snuggled into Bruce’s semi upright position. His head was resting on taut abdominal muscles. Smirking to himself, he turned his face into the skin and peppered light kisses across the surface. A hand began to card through his hair. His lips travelled up, and Bruce placed the phone back on the bedside. Clark looked up into Bruce’s blue eyes and the man looked happy. A smile was on the aristocratic face that made feelings swell from deep inside. Clark leaned up quickly to kiss luscious lips. Bruce’s hand came to caress his cheek as the kiss deepened. Just as Clark was about to roll Bruce back onto the bed on top of him, the phone beeped again.  With a sigh, Bruce broke their kiss. 

“Oliver wants to meet,” he informed the naked Kryptonian. 

Clark didn’t reply, instead that dark haired head dipped down to lick at Bruce’s nipple. Bruce wanted nothing more than to enjoy a long morning in bed with Clark, however his responsibilities nagged at his brain. The jet was booked to take him back to Gotham later in the afternoon. He also knew he had to see Diana before things became even more awkward. Clark’s insistent lapping had him interested in other things and thoughts about the others fled at the onslaught.

“Mmmmm, Bruce, you taste so good,” Clark huffed against Bruce’s naked flesh.

Bruce’s skin goosebumped under his ministrations. The hand in his hair began to grip a little tighter which just encouraged Clark more. He moved to Bruce’s other nipple to give it the same attention as the first. The phone made another chime and Clark furrowed his brow.

“Can’t they wait a while?” Clark asked plaintively.

“Maybe a little while,” Bruce smirked.

Clark’s grin was blinding as he replied with a soft ‘good’ before his head disappeared lower. Bruce inhaled deeply as his length was swallowed into an inhumanly hot mouth. 

*~*~*~*~*

Oliver lifted his head as he heard the door to the suite open. He had fallen asleep on the bed while waiting for Dinah’s return and had slept in his clothes. Wrinkling his nose at the uncomfortable feeling, he glanced up to see Dinah wasn’t in much better condition. Her hair was dishevelled and she was carrying her shoes in her hand. Dinah smirked at his clothes, dropped her shoes to the floor, and promptly flopped onto the bed with him.

“Good morning, Little Bird,” he said softly while moving in to cuddle her. “Rough night?”

“Happy Anniversary Oliver,” Dinah said and landed a big kiss on his lips.

Ollie smiled and wrapped his arms around his girlfriend. Dinah sat back after a few moments and sighed.

“Diana is ok, not great but ok,” she began as she moved off the bed and towards the adjoining ensuite. “I need a shower. Will you be joining me Mr Queen?”

Oliver didn’t need to be asked twice. 

*~*~*~*~*

Dinah towelled off her hair after her shower. She glanced over to see Oliver getting dressed and packing their clothes. They were headed back to the loft after catching up with Bruce. 

Her brow furrowed slightly, and she had to admit that she wasn’t looking forward to talking with Bruce in the harsh light of day. She had been wrong, so terribly wrong, and felt the weight of guilt pressing down on her . She had spent the night with Diana, consoling her friend. It had been awkward at first and Dinah wasn’t sure she would be forgiven by the Amazonian Princess. In all honesty, she wasn’t sure she deserved forgiveness. Oliver came over and pressed a kiss to her temple. She looked up gratefully into the eyes of the man she loved. 

“A penny for your thoughts?” Oliver asked.

“You can afford more than a penny, Mr Queen,” she answered cheekily.

Oliver smirked and moved to continue packing their things.

“I have to make things right Ollie,” she said quietly. “I made a terrible error in judgement. For a while there, I wasn’t sure if Diana was going to punch me or not.” Her voice held a sad laugh. 

The night with Diana had been very long and the two spoke at length. Nothing was said about Bruce and Clark together specifically but there was an underlying feeling between the two women. They had both picked up on the strange behaviour of the men that day in the parlour after the Gotham incident. Dinah hadn’t had the same intuition as Diana, but looking back on it now, it was obvious. 

Oliver wrapped his big arms around Dinah. He knew his little bird would be beating herself up over this. While he agreed things needed to be fixed, he wasn’t sure that either of them should be interfering at this stage. He said as much to Dinah, who simply stared at the floor, refusing to meet his eyes. There was also another subject that he needed to raise but he wasn’t sure how.

“Dinah, should we really stick our noses in again?” He asked softly. 

Dinah shook those blonde locks in a negative gesture.

“If I don’t do something, this could escalate. Bruce is as stubborn as you are, if not worse.” Dinah giggled at Oliver’s mock indignation at being called stubborn. 

“How about we meet for,” Oliver glanced at the clock on the nightstand, “brunch. We missed breakfast.”

“Did you know Ollie?” Dinah asked softly. “About Bruce and Clark?”

Oliver avoided the question, gathering up her dress and shoes from the previous evening and placing them in the bag. He wouldn’t betray Bruce’s confidence, but it didn’t take a detective to see what was going on between the pair. 

Dinah moved to where he was standing, placing the last of her toiletries in the zip up section of the luggage. 

He leaned down and kissed her tenderly.

“There’s a can of worms I don’t want to open. Come on, leave the bag for the bellhop and let’s go and see if we can convince Diana to meet with Bruce for brunch. We don’t want to let either of them stew for too long. You’re right, this does need to be fixed but not by us. Bruce and Diana need to talk.” Oliver gathered Dinah up into his arms as he spoke. He couldn’t avoid answering the question for long, but he figured Bruce was a big boy and could answer the question himself soon enough.

Dinah nodded as they parted and grabbed her purse. With a final check of the room to ensure nothing had been forgotten, the pair made their way to Diana’s room.

*~*~*~*~*

A knock at the door interrupted Diana’s zipping closed her suitcase. She was expecting Dinah’s return but was a little surprised to see Oliver.  She invited them inside and offered to get a beverage for the pair. After seeing her guests seated outside on the balcony in the sunshine, she made her way to the kitchenette. As she headed back with fresh juice for everyone, she couldn’t help but overhear Oliver and Dinah’s conversation.

“Oliver, now is not the time to bring it up,” Dinah hissed quietly.

“Is there ever a good time to bring up an issue like consent, Little Bird?” Oliver replied evenly. “She needs to be aware that kissing Bruce like that, while he was drunk, was wrong.”

Diana’s face flushed. She knew what they were speaking of. She had taken advantage of Bruce’s inebriation. Her mother and her sisters would be ashamed of her. Diana paused at the threshold of the door, eyes cast to the floor. It was obvious that the Star City duo were not only concerned for her well being, but also for Bruce’s. Lifting her head, she made the decision to face this head on. With a light step, she joined the pair at the table.

“I know I shouldn’t have kissed Bruce,” she said cautiously, watching her friend’s faces for their reaction. Dinah looked horrified while Oliver nodded thoughtfully.

“Diana, we didn’t mean for you to hear that,” Dinah said quickly. 

Diana shook her head. “Oliver speaks the truth, Dinah,” she said as she looked at Dinah’s guilt ridden face.

“I didn’t mean for you to hear it that way, Diana.” Oliver said as he looked between Dinah and Diana.  All three were silent for a long moment.

“What will you do now?” The archer asked quietly.

Diana shook her head ruefully. There was nothing but to offer apologies for her breach of trust and put her faith in the Gods. A musical note from Oliver’s phone interrupted the conversation before she could speak.

“Bruce is willing to meet up in 20 minutes,” Oliver said. “Perhaps if I go ahead, I can gauge Bruce’s mood before you ladies would care to join us? There really isn’t any point to dragging this out. The sooner everyone can put last night’s events behind us, the sooner we can all move on. We all work together and can’t have any tension between us. Awkwardness might get someone hurt. Or worse.”

Diana nodded in agreement while Dinah looked as if she were going to speak but clamped her mouth shut quickly. 

Oliver replied to Bruce’s text message before lifting his beverage.

“To forgiveness,” he toasted. 

The two women murmured their agreement, and all three continued to speak of inconsequential matters until the allotted time passed. 

When Oliver stood to leave, Diana saw an odd look cross his face. He looked conflicted for a moment before leaning down to kiss Dinah gently.

“I’ll see you both up there.” Oliver said before he quickly departed, leaving the two women alone once more.

“Do you think Bruce will forgive me?” Diana asked softly.

“Of course. It’s not like he is completely innocent either. If you ask me….” Dinah was interrupted when Diana raised her hand in a stop gesture.

“Dinah, no offense, but I don’t think I will be taking your advice for a while.” A sad smile crossed the Amazonian’s features. “Your last advice was just terrible. However, I know you were just trying to be a good friend. I will always be grateful for that. No doubt things will return to normal soon enough, and no stain will remain on our sisterhood. Until I have spoken with Bruce.” Diana gulped around the lump in her throat. “I think it would be wise to keep our own counsel. I do appreciate your support, and hope it will not waver. Whatever the future holds, you are a dear friend.”

Dinah’s eyes were moist with unshed tears. She understood where Diana was coming from and felt herself lucky that the most she received was a mild reprimand. Instead, she simply nodded her agreement, and the two women sat and enjoyed the early morning sun, waiting to hear from Oliver. 

*~*~*~*~*

Clark was back in his hotel room. He had left Bruce a few minutes ago to meet with Oliver. He couldn’t stop smiling. Humming happily to himself, he packed his clothes into his small suitcase.

After a round of spectacular morning sex, the pair had indulged in a shower together, carefully washing each other while kissing and caressing. Clark had been more than willing to go another round of sex and was quite insistent until Bruce had growled at him.

Why couldn’t he get enough of Bruce? He pondered the question. The recent physiological reactions to the man had changed, but the draw was as strong as ever. Clark hated for them to be parted at all. The insistent thrumming in his gut had receded to a gentle tug, and his mind felt clearer than it had since that interlude at the Manor.

Clark still had no answer as to why he had ravished the man at the Wayne residence that night. His actions the next day at his apartment in Metropolis were also a mystery. Clark had simply taken what he wanted without a second thought. He was lucky Bruce hadn’t gone ape shit at him over his actions. Clark also knew that it had been very unlike his usual demeanour. He really didn’t understand it.

When he tried to talk to Bruce about the apparent connection they shared, the billionaire had brushed him off. However, Bruce had then invited him to fly back to Gotham on the WE private jet as an opportunity to talk. Generally Clark prefered his own form of flying, but also knew that the conversation was important, so he had agreed. What Clark didn’t admit to was wanting to spend his every waking moment around Bruce. It really was like an addiction that he wanted to blissfully lose himself to.

Clark had flown from the balcony of the suite and avoided the walk of shame. It also meant he would be able to fly back when he checked out of his less than stellar Hotel. Talking would do both men some good, Clark determined.

Did the billionaire even remember the words he had almost spoken in the men’s room, and in their post coital daze, the previous evening? Clark wasn’t sure if he wanted to be the one to bring it up. Bruce wasn’t exactly the easiest person to talk to at the best of times. Although they had been intimate several times now, they still hadn’t done a lot of talking.

He finalised his packing and took the elevator down to the reception area to complete his checkout. The whole time, he pondered how to bring up this unusual connection they seemed to share. What if Bruce wanted to run tests? That seemed likely and was a very Batman thing to do when faced with the unknown. Clark knew he wouldn’t be able to answer the questions that Bruce would ask. It would frustrate the detective side of Bruce just as much as it frustrated Clark himself.

Ducking into an alley, he opened up his hearing. It seemed that Oliver had arrived at Bruce’s suite, and the girls were preparing to join the two men soon. Unsure of whether he should wait or not, he got out his phone and sent a quick message to Bruce. 

The reply was almost instantaneous. Bruce would let him know when he could return. 

A nearby cafe offered a solution to waiting in a grimy alley next to a smelly dumpster. Clark made his way over as the twinge in his guts flared again. A part of him suddenly resented the others intrusion on Bruce’s time, but he also knew that it was important to resolve things. The last thing the League needed was to be divided. He settled in to wait with a cinnamon spiced latte and opened his laptop to do more work on the story of the Charity Gala.

*~*~*~*~*

A firm knock on the door broke Bruce from his reverie. He had been thinking about Clark, of course. Quietly shutting the door to the bedroom, Bruce let the archer in with a smile. 

Oliver was smirking at the closed bedroom door as Bruce led him out to the balcony. The usual formalities were out of the way quickly as the two settled with fresh beverages.

“What did you want to talk about, Oliver?” Bruce’s smooth baritone queried.

“Do you want specific points or just the general gist,” Oliver’s smile was blinding, and Bruce scowled in response.

“The point, Ollie,” he growled with no real menace.

Oliver’s face settled into a more sombre countenance. 

Bruce had a fair idea of why the man was here, it just remained to be seen how the issues were going to be raised and what tone the conversation would take.

“We have to talk about last night, Bruce,” Oliver said with a small sigh. He placed his drink on the table and sat forward. “If you had been more upfront with the girls, none of this mess would have happened.”

“Oliver, as I said last night, I have repeatedly informed Diana that I don’t have any romantic interest in her.” Bruce’s tone turned sharp.

“I understand that, Bruce. But you have to admit you gave a lot of mixed signals.” Oliver showed his palms as he spoke, indicating that he wasn’t there to argue. 

Bruce shoved his chair back from the table and started to pace. His hand swept his hair back, and his mouth was turned down in displeasure. He had thought the same thing himself but didn’t appreciate either Oliver or Dinah butting in. Again. Bruce stopped behind the chair he had been sitting on and gripped the back tightly. He took a calming breath before he spoke.

“You and Dinah are both well aware of the need to maintain my persona. However,” his eyes dropped to the table, and his voice softened as he continued, “I accept that I owe Diana an apology. Alcohol or not, I should have been more careful with her feelings. But I did not initiate the kiss, nor did I encourage her. I brought her up here to talk, Ollie. She was upset. I could see that, and I didn’t want to have that particular conversation in public.”

Bruce’s eyes lifted to meet Oliver’s who nodded in understanding.

“I thought as much,” the archer said softly. “Will you meet with the girls to resolve this before it becomes a bigger issue?”

“I don’t see any other way,” Bruce replied. “The League can’t afford to have division amongst the ranks.”

“There is another issue, Bruce,” Oliver continued, dropping his gaze to his drink. 

Bruce just raised an eyebrow. 

“Spit it out, Oliver,” he said sharply, without any heat behind the words. 

Oliver’s head snapped up and stared him straight in the eye.

“Consent,” he stated mildly. This time it was Bruce’s turn to be surprised. Before Bruce could question the statement, Oliver continued. “Diana needs to know that what she did was wrong. I’m not saying she should be judged harshly, under the circumstances, but she needs to know where the line is so that it doesn’t happen again.”

Bruce grimaced. He felt keenly aware of Oliver’s words. Although he had played a role during the evening, it rankled that Oliver was right. Diana did need to know she had crossed a line despite Bruce’s behaviour being easily misinterpreted.

“And what do you suggest Oliver? How should I handle this without creating more tension?” Bruce had several ideas but was curious to see what Oliver thought.

“I’m not suggesting you berate the woman,” Oliver huffed. “And I’m not sure that either Dinah or myself are in a position to give you advice on this.” 

Bruce couldn’t help rolling his eyes at the truth of that statement. But Oliver was a friend and trusted college, so his insights might prove useful.

“Go on,” Bruce motioned for Ollie to continue.

“Diana is also aware of her misstep, so let her apologise. I don’t know what she will say about the matter, but give her the chance to make amends.” Oliver’s reasoning was sound. 

Bruce nodded in agreement. “I had no intention of making Diana suffer more humiliation,” he said gruffly.

“Let’s get them up here and get it sorted.” Oliver’s reasonable tone mollified the Bat inside Bruce that was demanding that he didn’t need advice.  

Instead, Bruce agreed and watched as Oliver sent a text message to Dinah.  Now all the pair had to do was wait for the women to join them. Bruce was not looking forward to facing either of them again, but there was nothing for it.

Hell would freeze over before he admitted that Oliver was right however.

*~*~*~*~*

It wasn’t long before there was a second knock at Bruce’s suite door. Oliver offered to answer it and Bruce nodded his assent. His mind was contemplating various ways of dealing with the tangle they all found themselves in. He glanced up as the pair of women joined him on the balcony. Bruce offered them a drink, but Oliver was already taking care of it.

Diana and Dinah took seats at the table and an awkward silence ensued. It was broken quickly as Oliver joined the small party.

Diana wouldn’t look at Bruce, and Dinah was looking to Oliver for hints on how to continue. Oliver seemed to encourage Dinah with his eyes so she cleared her throat and started to speak.

“Bruce, I owe you a big apology. As I said to Diana, I thought I was helping, and all I did was cause heartache all round.” Her eyes turned to Bruce’s as she continued. “I honestly did have the best of intentions, and we all know how stubborn you can be.” She was cut off by Oliver squeezing her hand in warning. 

Bruce’s gaze hardened, and Dinah’s cheeks flushed crimson. 

Diana interjected.

“I, too, owe you an apology Bruce.” Diana still refused to look at Bruce. She felt her shame sharply. Although she was sitting next to Bruce at the table, she had left a considerable distance between them. Diana was startled to feel a hand take her own. Bruce had taken a strong grip on her, and she lifted her eyes to meet the man’s stare. It still made her heart thump when she saw the steel blue colour under long lashes.

“Diana, this is a simple misunderstanding. You may have been advised by a well-meaning friend,” Bruce glanced at Dinah before returning to Diana’s sad features. “However, I don’t want to see last night’s events become a barrier between us.”

Dinah flinched at Bruce’s words even if they weren’t directed at her. 

The Gothamite continued.

“I must also accept responsibility for my actions, Princess. Brucie Wayne was something I shouldn’t have subjected you to. It is not inconceivable that my intentions were misunderstood under the circumstances. It is my sincerest hope that this will not hang over us as we move forward. You are a trusted member of the League, and someone that I consider a friend. I hope you will accept my apology.” Bruce lifted her hand to his lips and placed a light kiss on Diana’s knuckles. 

Diana couldn’t help that her heart raced. She withdrew her hand quickly and nodded, not trusting her voice at that moment.

Bruce turned to Dinah and his features darkened.

“As for you Dinah, while I understand you were encouraging your friend and only wanted the best for her, you were out of line. As you have already stated, you know me. If I had wanted to pursue a romantic relationship with Diana, I would have. I may be stubborn, but I am fully capable of managing my own life, despite what any of you think.” Bruce’s tone was hard.

Dinah looked down at her hands folded in her lap. She knew she deserved whatever Bruce had to say. She bit her tongue when Bruce claimed he could manage his life, remembering all the times that he continued his Mission while injured or incapacitated. Now was not the time for arguing semantics.

“Furthermore, both you and Oliver are already due for punishment for the Car Incident.” Bruce held back a smile that threatened to crack his stern facade at the horrified looks cast his way by the Star City duo.

“Bruce,” Diana’s voice drew Bruce’s attention away from the cringing couple. “Before we get too far off the subject of last night, I have something else to say and I would ask that you let me finish before speaking, please?”

Bruce noted the high colour on Diana’s face and knew what was coming. He felt a little sick remembering the kiss. Internally, he was still grateful that Clark hadn’t taken one look at the scene and fled. He turned his attention to the Amazonian.

“My own judgement last night was not affected as your own was by the wine. I should never have taken advantage of your state. What I did was wrong. The Gods would be ashamed of me, as would all of Themyscira. I was well aware you did not have all your faculties intact and yet,” Diana gulped around the hot shame that filled her, “I still acted without your consent. This is not your doing, no matter what occurred during the evening. Even if you had been willing, it was poor judgement on my part and is unacceptable. I want you to know that something like this will never happen again, not with you or with any other.”

Bruce stood and pulled Diana up into a hug. His arms wrapping around her threatened to break her composure as she was reminded once again that this could never be hers.

“Princess,” the smooth baritone whispered into her ear, causing a brief shudder to run the length of her spine, “unusual circumstances aside, I am glad to hear that it is not something that will repeat itself.”

Bruce pulled back and brushed her long hair away from her face. She felt on the verge of tears. Seeing this soft side of Bruce only made her heart ache more. She was pulled back into his arms and held tightly. The sobs she had been holding back broke out and she cried into his shoulder. Strong hands stroked her back and she heard murmured words telling her it was alright. She fought the urge to kiss the man once more but couldn’t contain the way her heart raced.

It was at that moment that a strong gust of wind blew over the small group and a voice nearby growled.

“That’s enough!”

*~*~*~*~*

Clark had stopped typing a few minutes prior as his hearing picked up the conversation from Bruce’s vicinity. He knew that the situation needed to be resolved but as he detected Diana’s uptick in her heart rate, the strange pull on him intensified. He closed his laptop and paid for his drink before returning to the nearby alleyway. He quickly changed into his traditional red and blue uniform, slung his messenger bag over his shoulder, and picked up his small bag of clothes before flying towards the balcony the other heroes were gathered on.

As he arrived, the first thing he saw was Diana in Bruce’s arms. The Gothamite was calm but Diana was in an excited state. His common sense left him as he rushed in. Landing a few meters from the embracing pair he didn’t notice how his eyes had taken on a fiery red hue. Four pairs of eyes looked at him with surprise. 

“Clark,” Bruce said with some trepidation at the sight before him.

Clark’s head swivelled to pin Bruce with those glowing eyes. Diana stepped away from him hurriedly, wiping her eyes. Bruce took a step towards Clark but the Kryptonian seemed to growl low in his throat.

“I can’t leave you alone for five minutes, Bruce.” Superman rumbled his displeasure.

“Kal, I was apologising,” Diana said frustratedly.

Dinah and Oliver were glued to their seats. This had escalated quickly, just when things seemed to be resolving themselves.

“Clark, stand down immediately. This is uncalled for.” Bruce did growl, with anger this time. The tone seemed to shake the Super out of his state and his eyes dimmed back to their normal cerulean blue. The frown didn’t leave from behind the spit curl. Taking the few steps to grab Bruce by the bicep, he marched them to the other side of the balcony and out of earshot of their companions. Bruce tried to wrench his arm from the grip but couldn’t.

“Bruce, what is the meaning of this,” Clark’s voice was hard.

Bruce had a moment of doubt. Seeing the Kryptonian act possessive towards him was not reassuring in the slightest.

“Diana was upset about last night. She was apologising, which you would already know because you will have been listening,” he hissed. Clark let go of his arm and Bruce took two steps back. Clark immediately stepped forward again and Bruce felt smothered.

“I was working on my article so I wasn’t actively listening. I did hear Diana’s heart rate increase and rushed over only to find her in your arms.” Clark hissed.

“Listen to my words Clark, and listen carefully. Diana was upset about what happened last night. The kiss in particular.” Bruce noted Clark’s eyes started to take on a red cast again so he reached out to pull sharply on Clark’s wrist.

Clark felt Bruce’s pull and let himself be drawn closer to the one person he wanted to be near in the whole world. As Bruce’s words sunk in, he felt a little better but still the overriding desire to protect what was his had him knotted up inside.

“She can’t have you, Bruce. I don’t want anyone else to have you.” Clark looked up into Bruce’s narrowed eyes. He could tell he had angered Bruce but he felt no remorse. 

“We will discuss this later, on the jet. For now, you WILL apologise to Diana and the others because this is unacceptable.” Bruce was furious and Clark knew it. He hung his head and nodded. Bruce let go and moved back towards the trio. Clark hurried to keep up but didn’t crowd the billionaire.

“Clark has something he wishes to say,” Bruce said flatly.

The three looked at Clark who looked like he’d eaten something sour.

“I’m sorry I overreacted,” he said with a modicum of remorse.

“Why don’t you sit with us?” Oliver suggested. The last thing he had expected was for a jealous Superman to show up as things were going well.

“Clark is going to get changed. The last thing we need is for some news helicopter to get pictures of Superman brunching with the rest of us and compromising our identities.” Bruce grumped. Clark nodded and moved to where his bags had landed on the balcony. He took them inside and changed at regular speed, feeling somewhat foolish for his reactions.

On the balcony, Bruce listened to the others chat while they all waited for Clark. He was concerned at the Boy Scout’s reactions. A lot of Clark’s behaviours had been out of character lately. He had a lot of questions about the feeling of shared sensations but needed a way to bring them up. He also wanted to know if Clark had felt the same things he was experiencing. The strange pulling inside him, the feeling of pain and fullness in his head. It had been the reason for inviting Clark to journey back to Gotham with him. Bruce could also run tests in the cave if necessary. He needed to know what had changed Clark’s attitude. Pushing all that aside for the moment, he glanced at his companions. Both Diana and Dinah were subdued. Oliver seemed his usual self and was trying to lift the spirits of the group. This could not continue. The League could not afford any form of awkwardness. He determined that when Clark returned, things would be set straight once and for all.

Clark lingered for as long as he could but for someone with super speed, it would be clear that he was delaying. Straightening his baggy jacket and pushing his glasses up onto his face, he joined the rest in the sunshine. All the faces turned towards him as he sat at the table. The only face he paid attention to was Bruce’s. The billionaire didn’t look as happy as he had earlier that morning. Clark knew that he had overreacted to seeing Diana in Bruce’s arms. He cleared his throat and began to speak hesitantly.

“I’m really sorry everyone, I don’t know what got into me. Diana, I’m especially sorry to you. I realise that you were making amends with Bruce and I….” he hesitated.

“Kal,” Diana spoke calmly but her eyes flashed. “You have changed lately. Is all well with you?”

Everyone seemed very interested in the answer to this question. Bruce leaned forward and steepled his fingers. This was the very question he intended to ask Clark later. Admittedly their relationship had changed abruptly in a short span of time, but it had basically been Clark’s doing. Until the night at the Manor, all Clark had ever spoken about was Lois. The reporter had been infatuated with her from day one. Bruce didn’t believe for a moment that Clark would admit to much in front of company, but he was curious to see how the Kryptonian would respond.

Clark gave a stifled stutter that was meant to be a laugh. Now he was put on the spot, he had no answer for any of them. He could see that Bruce was very interested in his response. Colour flushed his cheeks as he struggled to find an answer to satisfy them all.

“I’m sure it’s nothing Diana.” Clark looked away, a sure sign he wasn’t being completely honest.

“Well, if you ask me….” Dinah began but the group groaned and she closed her mouth quickly. 

“As much as we all love you, Little Bird, it might be best to keep some opinions to ourselves. Unless you know more about Kryptonian biology than you’re letting on.” Oliver smirked and squeezed Dinah’s hand in reassurance.

“Kal,” Diana continued, “we are all here for you if you are experiencing any troubles.” She may have feelings for Bruce but it didn’t mean she would neglect her friends. That included Clark, despite the irrational jealousy she felt whenever she caught the two men looking at each other. She knew she had to put those feelings aside for the good of the League.

“It’s fine, everyone,” Clark stammered. He knew Bruce wouldn’t want what was happening between them discussed, and Clark didn’t have any answers anyway. What was this thing between them? Clark flushed remembering Bruce’s words and hoped they weren’t just the product of the alcohol that had been consumed. All he really wanted was for the group to disperse so he could spend more time with his Bruce. 

Oliver looked around at the group shifting uncomfortably. This would never do. As much as he had disliked Dinah’s interference, this situation just couldn’t continue. He didn’t want to breach any confidences but a glance at Bruce and Clark showed the pair were not going to do anything about the stalemate anytime soon. Taking a deep breath, he made a decision.

“Well, as interesting as last night was,” Oliver began. All faces swivelled to him and he felt a moment of doubt, but he was determined to continue. “It’s time that all of that was put behind us. I think all this apologising and remorse has built up an appetite. Who’s hungry?”

The group laughed and Bruce got up to find the room service menu. Eating together was a good idea, not that he would admit as much to Oliver. It would allow them all to relax and reestablish their bonds of friendship and trust. Bruce was still concerned about Clark’s reactions but they had time later on the flight to Gotham to discuss whatever was going on between them.

The five heroes all seemed to take a breath and the air seemed to lighten between them all as they indulged in Bruce’s hospitality. It was a good start to resolving all the conflict that had occurred between them all.

*~*~*~*~*

Bruce buckled in and watched as Clark did the same seated opposite him. They had spoken very little since the meeting on the balcony. He had intended for the flight back to Gotham to be an opportunity to discuss their situation. The reporter had been quiet, as was befitting his persona. To anyone nearby, Clark was getting a rare one on one interview with the billionaire. Bruce couldn’t help thinking of Clark’s actions and reactions lately. There was the intervention with his Mission, and the incidents at the Gala. This morning at the hotel was the most concerning to him at the moment. Clark should have noted Diana’s upset nature. The Kryptonians hesitation to answer any questions about the two of them was welcomed, but Bruce needed to know why the boy scout’s whole attitude seemed to have changed so drastically of late. And what of this relationship? If it could be called that. Bruce’s doubts began to grow as the jet taxied out onto the airstrip.

Clark was feeling more than awkward. He wasn’t looking forward to the hard questions Bruce would ask him. He also didn’t like flying unless it was under his own power. His hands gripped the armrests as the jet lined up on the runway. He was sitting facing the rear of the plane and felt himself pushed into the safety belts as the jet built up speed. Watching Bruce for queues on how to act didn’t help. He found himself drawn once more to the man seated close by. He bit his bottom lip as he imagined tearing that fine suit away to reveal the gorgeous man underneath. His cock started to harden in his pants and Clark shifted in his seat. Bruce raised an eyebrow at him in question but he shook his head and looked out the window. Concentrating on not bending the materials under his hands occupied him for a few minutes and soon the aircraft had risen above the clouds. 

There was a single steward on the jet to see to Mr Wayne’s needs. As usual the billionaire flirted outrageously, declining any beverages or snacks. Clark tried not to react to Bruce’s antics, telling himself that it was part of the persona Bruce used. Once the woman had returned to the front of the jet, and out of earshot, Clark leaned forward to whisper furiously.

“Do you always have to do that?” His eyes had taken on a slight hue unbeknownst to the journalist.

“Clark,” Bruce hissed, “you have to stop these unreasonable reactions. You will draw attention to both of us.”

There was a separate room towards the back that could be closed off. Bruce got up from his seat once the seatbelt light had flickered off and made his way into the private space. Once Clark was inside, he closed the doors but suddenly found himself crowded up against the hard surface. Heated lips were on his own and for a moment, Bruce gave himself over to the sensations. Moments turned into minutes as fire filled his mouth. A leg was pushed between his own and he felt his resolve melt as he thrust against the thigh pressed tightly against his groin. As a groan escaped his lips, he felt arms wrap around him, under his jacket and pull his shirt from inside his pants. Nails scraped down his sides and he felt himself shudder. Bruce’s tongue danced across Clark’s and their bodies swayed in the mild turbulence.

Clark suddenly spun them both until Bruce’s back hit the conference table. His breath was knocked from his lungs as his mouth was taken once more. He pushed against Clark, pummeled at the invulnerable shoulder and gasped heavily when Clark leaned back and he was allowed a breath.

“Clark,” he began.

“No Bruce,” Clark said licking behind his ear, “no more words, no more flirting with others. You’re mine.”

Teeth bit hard at the skin at the join where his neck met his shoulder, and the sharp sensation threw Bruce. Clark was removing his suit, piece by piece, without a single tear or button flying. Bruce tried to sit up but was pushed back down, devoid of his shirt in an instant. A single hand grasped both his wrists and held them above his head, and he could feel the buckle of his belt undone. A swift pull had the leather removed from around his waist before the hand resumed its work on his pants. Clark’s lips didn’t stop. His mouth was ravaged, his neck and chest licked and nibbled. Part of Bruce wanted to fight, but another part was enjoying the attention and the dominance. As his cock was freed from the confines of his pants, he felt himself wrapped in a large fist just as Clark lapped at his nipple. The Kryptonian was using super powers to strip Bruce of his willpower as well as his clothes.

“Cl.. Clark, we need to talk.” Bruce stuttered the words in a breathy exhale.

Clark lifted his head to meet the wolfish blue eyes. Sliding further down, he smirked at Bruce’s delicious rumpled state. The leaking cock in his hand was worth more than any words that could be said. As his face drew nearer, he licked at the drops forming on the slit of Bruce’s hardness. The gasp from the billionaire only encouraged him. Some part of his brain reminded him that he should have asked Bruce’s permission before he swallowed down the entire length in one go. Feeling Bruce’s cock hit the back of his throat was so right, so perfect, that Clark stopped thinking at all and began to suck. He’d managed to retain his grip on Bruce’s wrists but they had been pinned down with considerable force. 

Bruce was torn between pleasure and pain. The grip on his wrists was grinding the fragile bones together and cutting off blood to his fingers. The mouth on his cock was like lava, all heat and suction. His hips thrust as he wrenched his hands. Clark was sucking on him and drawing his orgasm out prematurely but Clark still had a hand wrapped around the base of his cock, squeezing his balls, and preventing him from coming. He was stretched out on the table, at the Kryptonian’s mercy. He couldn’t form words and grunts echoed throughout the cabin. This was completely unlike the lovemaking they had indulged in that morning in the suite. Bruce felt uncharacteristically helpless and he wasn’t sure he liked it. There was something appealing about Clark’s strength, but this felt too much. He wanted to struggle, he wanted to come, he wanted it to stop, he didn’t want it to stop. The conflict inside was pushed aside as Clark applied more suction to his needy dick. A moan was dragged from him and he thrashed to find relief. 

“Cl….” He couldn’t form the words as he was taken. There was no other way to describe the way Clark ravaged him and took what he wanted. Part of Bruce wanted to let go and enjoy the moment, but the logical part of his brain kicked in. He started to fight even as the sensations were drawing him over the edge of pleasure.

“St...op” he gasped.

Clark halted and stared up at him. Bruce didn’t recognise the look on the boy scout’s face. There was a strange expression that flitted across the handsome features before Clark began to lick him from root to tip. Bruce shuddered helplessly. His need drove his hips upwards. Clark smirked at him from around his engorged cock.

“Do you really want me to stop?” the reporter husked. Bruce’s dick twitched and a whimper escaped his lips. 

“I didn’t think so,” Clark whispered as those lips wrapped around him again. Clark’s hands didn’t move from his wrists or from around his length and Bruce felt himself trembling. He needed to come but Clark wasn’t letting go. As the pressure built, Bruce experienced pain again and again. The Kryptonian kept him on the edge for what seemed like hours until he was finally allowed release. 

Bruce felt hollow as he dressed afterwards. He noted his destroyed watch and the darkening of his skin being hidden behind cuffs. He removed the crushed, previously expensive, watch from his wrist and let it drop to the table with a loud thunk. Clark didn’t even look up, wouldn’t look at him. 

Bruce wondered if Clark felt remorse for the way he had used him. Bruce felt anger start to burn in his chest.

Neither man spoke as the Captain’s voice came over the speaker system, informing them of their approach to Gotham.

*~*~*~*~*

Bruce was scowling as the plane rolled to a stop at Gotham’s private airport. Clark didn’t look even a little ashamed as Bruce rubbed at his sore wrists. He’d seen his reflection in the mirror of the small bathroom, and the bruising around his neck was vibrantly purple from hickeys. He looked like some teenager that couldn’t control his impulses. The short flight had not given any opportunity to discuss the things that had crossed Bruce’s mind regarding Clark’s strange new behaviour. These latest actions seemed to confirm that something had changed. Clark had kept them occupied for the entire flight and Bruce honestly just ached. He was tired and somewhat pissy at Clark’s little display. He’d returned from the bathroom to find Clark strapped into the seat, being served a drink by their steward. She had been diligent in her job and so the pair weren’t afforded the opportunity to raise any of his concerns. Bruce was frustrated. He hated it when things didn’t pan out the way he intended.

Alfred was waiting nearby with the Bentley. Airport staff rushed to place the luggage in the car while Alfred stood next to the open door.

“Will Mister Kent be joining us?” the butler enquired with a smirk.

A look of concern crossed Clark’s face, one that Bruce recognised. The reporter dashed into the car but was out the other side and flying high into the sky before anyone could notice. Bruce looked at Alfred, who just shrugged his shoulders.

“I heard nothing on the radio,” Alfred began before there was another blast of air. 

Both men looked into the back seat of the car to find Clark adjusting his tie. Bruce raised his eyebrow in question before slipping inside. Alfred closed the door and moved to check the trunk so the two men could have a private conversation without the risk of eavesdropping by airport staff. 

“What,” Bruce began before he was cut off by a grinning Clark.

“There was a breakout from Blackgate in progress.” At Bruce’s frown, Clark added hastily, “I heard the guards shouting and the alarms. I managed to stop Victor Zsaz from escaping. He’s back in his cell and no-one was hurt. Looks like Batman can have a night off.”

Clark looked very pleased with himself. The Kryptonian leaned forward to nuzzle at Bruce’s ear but Bruce was having none of it. He was still pretty pissed at the lack of conversation on the plane. Alfred got in the driver’s seat and looked into the rear view mirror for instructions on how to proceed. Bruce held up a hand in a stop motion and spun to face Clark.

“I still have to patrol. Batman needs to be seen, especially after a night off. Why did you think it was alright for you to interfere in Gotham? How do you know that the guards wouldn’t have contained Zsasz?” Bruce’s voice snapped harshly.

“You’re welcome, Bruce.” Clark’s grin continued to be blinding.

“Clark,” Bruce growled low. 

Clark completely ignored all the warning signs that would have normally indicated he was pissing off the Bat.

“Come on Bruce, you’re always working so hard, and now you don’t have to go out and get hurt tonight. It wasn’t a big deal. It didn’t even take two minutes and now it’s taken care of. You don’t have to spend the night chasing him down.” Clark spoke quickly and tried to pull the billionaire towards him.

“What?” Bruce asked, voice dangerously low.

Clark had grabbed both of Bruce’s hands as he spoke. Bruce tried to pull away but couldn’t. He didn’t want to admit that his wrists were hurting as attempted to free himself.

Catching a glimpse of Alfred’s eyes, he could see the question in them. Bruce shook his head minutely. 

“Let go, Clark,” he said through gritted teeth. Bruce was actively wrenching his arms but they wouldn’t budge. 

Clark looked surprised for a moment before he released his hold on Bruce, who tumbled back against the door.

“Bruce,” Clark was at a loss. Why did Bruce pull away? More importantly, why did it appear that the man was actively growling at him. 

“Get out!” Bruce demanded, crossing his arms defensively. 

“Wait, Bruce, I…” the reporter stammered.

Bruce pulled on the handle and opened the car door.

“Out!” the billionaire’s voice was raised.

“You’re not listening to me.” Clark tried to understand what was going on. Why was Bruce being difficult? He’d just helped him, and in doing so, was protecting him. 

Bruce got out of the car himself and stood by the open door. He was furious. After last  night at the Gala, this was the last thing he expected and yet, here was Superman trying to claim he was helping. He gritted his teeth and tried to focus on his breathing techniques.

“Bruce, stop being unreasonable,” Clark said from his seat. 

Bruce raised his eyebrow. “Unreasonable?”

Alfred, from where he was seated up the front, shook his head. “Oh dear lord, you’ve done it now.”

Clark clearly heard the Englishman and his head whipped between the two men. He was getting more and more frustrated by Bruce’s reactions. He got out of the car to stand near Bruce. The airport crew had moved on and there was no one in the immediate vicinity. Clark tried to look Bruce in the eye but those arctic blues were glaring at him in true Batman fashion. Clark tried to step towards Bruce who immediately stepped back.

“You,” Bruce began, poking Clark in the chest to emphasize every word, “will leave Gotham now!”

“Stop it, B.” Clark practically growled. “This is ridiculous.”

Bruce narrowed his eyes. “Ridiculous? I’ll tell you what’s ridiculous. A hick town reporter expecting an exclusive, a Boy Scout who can’t keep his hands to himself and you alone in your apartment tonight while I go on patrol. Ridiculous is not going to get you laid tonight, Mister Kent.”  Spinning on his heel, Bruce got back into the car and slammed the door shut. He waved his hand in Alfred’s direction to start the vehicle. 

Clark stood with his mouth wide open as the luxury car glided away. That was when he remembered his luggage and laptop were in the trunk of the car. He was tempted to chase them down, to retrieve his items, before heading to Metropolis but he changed his mind. Bruce was so infuriating. Clark wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of chasing after him once more. He didn’t even bother changing into his uniform as he shot up into the air and left Gotham behind. Two can play this game, he thought to himself as he resolved to stay away until Bruce called him back and apologised.

*~*~*~*~*


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Bat returns to his city.  
> He’s not happy.
> 
> Superman is moody.  
> He’s not happy either.
> 
> The Justice League is wondering what the heck is going on.  
> They’re unhappy too.
> 
> The bad guys are plotting.  
> They are happy!
> 
> What the heck is going on with these guys???
> 
> *~*~*~*~*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Throws chapter at the wall to see if it sticks*  
> Yep, it's mostly cooked ;)
> 
> *~*~*~*~*
> 
> Many thanks to those the helped with this chapter. You know who you are!  
> *glomps*
> 
> I admit I struggled a bit with this one and it might seem a little ‘overview’ in places, but I think it’s what the story needed to get the plot back on track.
> 
> I will let you all know that the next chapters will be a little slower than usual because I have a lot of content to write (since the Great Notes Loss of ‘17) and I do want to do a good job for everyone.
> 
> So please be patient with me?
> 
> And as always, enjoy!!!
> 
> *~*~*~*~*

*~*~*~*~*

The Next Evening.

Bruce groaned as he pushed away from the computer console. He moved slowly, as if wading through a pool of syrup. His arms and legs felt heavy and his body seemed to be carrying an extra weight, bearing down and threatening to crush him. Standing in front of his supplies he scowled, mentally taking note of what needed to be re-stocked in the belt. Bruce’s palms slapped down on the flat metal work surface. Those broad shoulders seemed to sag as his chin dropped to his chest and his eyes closed. 

The pounding in his skull had only increased along with the incessant pulling from within. He didn’t have time for this. Bruce needed to get back out there. Gotham was calling for her Bat, and he would never deny her. The rustling of leathery wings startled him back to full awareness as the bats of the cave settled. Quick hands pulled the necessary items from drawers and cabinets, placing them carefully in the allotted compartments. 

The cowl was dragged back over his head and determined steps took him over to the car. Once more, the Batman headed into the night.

*~*~*~*~* 

3 Days Later.

Clark was moody. For someone who was usually cheerful, this came as quite a shock to a number of people. The first to bear the brunt of this was Lois.

Clark sat in front of his workstation at the Daily Planet, staring at the blinking cursor. The words wouldn’t come. It was a simple article that would usually be done in minutes but it had been two hours and counting. He was so focussed on the screen that the unexpected tap on his shoulder caused him to jump and knock over his coffee. Lois just stood there and smirked as Clark tried to mop up the mess with tissues pulled from a box that had pandas displayed all over it. Clark frowned, annoyed with Lois’s reaction. When Clark heard a giggle escape the hand Lois had clasped over her mouth, he whirled towards her.

“Yes yes, it’s hilarious. What do you want Lois?” His voice was hard and flat. There was no humour hiding behind his spectacle frames. 

Lois’ eyes widened fractionally at the out of character reaction. 

Clark noted her quick intake of breath and looked away quickly. He hadn’t meant to snap at her like that.

“I was coming to see if you needed help with your piece,” Lois replied in a small voice.

Clark sighed and dumped the wad of tissues in the waste bin next to his desk. He sat back at his desk heavily and rubbed at the back of his neck like he was trying to stretch a tight muscle.

“It’s fine, thankyou for your offer.” Clark sounded hollow and empty. There was no malice intended, and thankfully Lois soon returned to her own workstation. 

When Lois turned up at his apartment after work, to demand an explanation for his rudeness and change in behaviour, Clark had wanted to growl at her to leave him be. He remembered how she had stood in his kitchen, hands on hips, demanding to know who had shit in his Cornflakes. 

“It’s nothing. It’s none of your business,” Clark had replied in a waspish, sharp tone of voice. That really got Lois fuming. She grabbed her bag and coat, slamming the door on her way out. 

That seemed to snap him out of his funk for the remainder of the evening, but it didn’t last. 

Clark lay in his bed later that night, but sleep eluded him. He had been trying to resist this pull towards Bruce that didn’t let up for a single infuriating moment. His dreams the last few nights were not the soft romantic dreams of earlier. They had began to turn darker as his subconscious demanded he take back what belonged to him. He’d awoken after every dream with a painful erection that couldn’t be ignored. Thinking of Bruce as he jerked himself off didn’t seem to help and he found his desire rising again and again.

Super hearing allowed Clark to narrow in on Gotham’s streets. There it was. The heavy swish of the cape, the scrape of boots, the firing of the grapple. Above it all was Bruce’s heart beat, strong and steady. The barest of flutter in that cadence echoed inside when he heard Bruce get into a fight. He sat up quickly on the bed, prepared to go rushing to the rescue if Batman was in trouble. Clark scowled when he heard the distinctive sound of zip ties being applied to whatever criminal element had been subdued. He flopped back down on the bed and wondered when he had started hoping for Batman to be overwhelmed so he could fly in and save the day. The last time he’d tried that stunt, he’d been very wrong. In fact, Clark had ruined a carefully set up plan by the Bat and Bruce had been hurt as a result. That memory seemed to douse the fire of his frustration and he spent the remainder of the night restless, listening to that steady rhythm in the distance. Gotham was only across the bay, but it may as well have been on the other side of the planet with the yawning chasm of emotional distance growing between the two men.

The following day, Lois didn’t even try to talk to him. Clark sighed heavily and returned his attention to the three paragraphs he still hadn’t finished over the last day and a half. He didn’t need a run-in with Perry to top off his foul temper.

*~*~*~*~* 

Shayera also noticed the changes in Clark. The Thanagarian woman had tried on several occasions to sit with Clark in the Watchtower cafeteria without success. Superman would simply get up and leave if he was approached. He didn’t respond to her. 

Shayera had attempted to locate Batman shortly afterwards but the Dark Knight wasn’t anywhere to be found. This put Shayera in a bad mood and, when Shayera was in a bad mood, everyone on the Watchtower paid the price.

*~*~*~*~* 

One evening, J’onn had visited the Monitor Room while Clark was on duty. He had explained that Clark was mentally broadcasting anger and distress, which was giving the Martian a terrible headache. Clark was apologetic to J’onn initially but pushed away all offers of assistance from the telepath.

After that, a steady stream of friends and family became a daily routine. Despite their good intentions, this seemed to aggravate Clark even more. He snapped at small inconveniences and stomped around angrily.

*~*~*~*~* 

Clark was visiting the Watchtower, hoping it would help put some distance between himself and the driving need inside him. His attention was on the satellite’s monitors. It was Flash’s shift but even the normally happy-go-lucky Barry hadn’t improved his temperament. Everything he tried, to take his mind of this mindless tugging towards Bruce, seemed destined to fail. Nothing was working. Even now, he could feel a wrenching inside himself towards a certain billionaire.

Flash had gone to get a snack from the cafeteria, and he was watching the screens carefully. Clark concentrated on trying to clear his mind. His chin rested in the palm of his hand as he idly cycled through various information panels. When Gotham had come scrolling past, he halted the feed and focused on the information. Clark clenched his fists and grit his teeth when he saw a picture of Bruce surrounded by women. He didn’t bother to read the accompanying article. If he had, he would have discovered it was an old picture being used in conjunction with speculation about why Bruce Wayne had missed an important function the previous night. 

Clark was furious. The pain behind his eyes ratcheted up and the thrumming in his gut seemed to rise to a high pitched keen. He wanted to punch the sun. The dull ache he had been carrying around in his chest flared to a raging inferno. 

Moving at high speed through the corridors, he made his way into the emptiness of space before roaring his anger into the void. He barely managed to contain the heat vision threatening to explode from his eyes. His muscles spasmed briefly before Clark was heaving into the weightless environment. Bile clawed it’s way up his throat, followed by what was left of his evening meal. Clark watched disinterestedly as half processed food drifted away, propelled by the expulsion from his stomach.

Emotional exhaustion drained him of any remaining energy. He just floated in place for a few minutes before J’onn appeared next to him. The Martian didn’t say anything but gently grasped Clark’s elbow to direct him back to the Watchtower. 

As they approached the airlock, Clark could see Flash and Green Lantern staring at him from the observation deck windows. Cyborg waited on the other side of the airlock and assisted J’onn to run a battery of tests once Clark was escorted to the medbay. Although nothing was found to be physically wrong, J’onn had detected more than enough emotional spillage from the Kryptonian to be worried. 

Batman was nowhere in sight.

*~*~*~*~* 

Bruce felt ill. A return of the headaches and head pain had him grinding his teeth at every waking moment. The constant pulling in his gut put him off his food, more so than usual. When it began impacting his patrol, he returned to the Cave in a rage. The cowl went flying and expensive electronics were destroyed in a fit of pique when Bullock, of all people, had actually asked if Batman was doing ok. Gordon had said nothing but raised his hand to his forehead worriedly when the Bat had stomped off instead of doing his usual disappearing act.

Alfred was almost at his wits end trying to get the boy to eat and rest. The Batman would work himself to exhaustion, until reaching the point of collapse. Alfred knew what little sleep Master Bruce was able to snatch was constantly interrupted. Dreams and nightmares kept the tired man tossing and turning, and  waking at odd hours. He felt his heart tug, as it had done ever since he first heard the muffled sobs of a bereaved 8 year old child. A sickness seemed to be seizing up his ward once more, eating away at the usual stoic exterior of the man. The self imposed duties as Batman weren’t helping matters. Alfred was uncharacteristically at a loss as to what to do, or where to turn. 

The criminal element of Gotham whispered amongst itself and speculation was rife about what had made the Bat scarier than usual. Every crook seemed to get a severe beating, no matter what the infraction, when caught by Batman.  When the sun went down, the streets fell silent, people rushed to their homes and locked all the windows and doors. Streetwalkers and gambling establishments were suffering from a lack of patronage but none of the Gangs were willing to face the Wrath of the Night. Gotham was uncharacteristically quiet.

The fear of the Bat was strong.

*~*~*~*~* 

A masked man sat in a dimly lit room. A spartan apartment with utilitarian furnishings were a temporary lair. It was filled with the smell of gun oil and the lingering, acrid bite of propellant that was embedded into his suit. He finished the maintenance of his favoured firearm and reached for a second, highly specialised, unit. He checked it over with a keen eye before turning his attention to a nearby case. It was opened with special care, almost reverence, to take one of two rounds from within customised protective layers. He rolled it between his fingers before loading it into the weapon it was designed for. The mechanics were a smooth action as the working parts moved forward, the bullet was in the chamber, and he lined up on an imaginary target.

“Boom,” the man whispered into the empty space around him.

With the same careful deliberation, he unloaded the round and replaced it carefully.

Not long now, the man thought to himself with smug satisfaction.

*~*~*~*~* 

The Justice League was kept busy since the Gala. So busy that there was no sighting of Batman by Superman or vice versa. Clark was being as stubborn as Bruce, so they had stuck to their respective cities when not in uniform.

Batman had only left Gotham twice, as all the other emergencies had been dealt with by one or two League members. No monitor duty shifts had coincided and there had been no big meetings requiring everyone’s presence. 

When Toyman’s latest scheme brought the entire Justice League out to face the threat, Batman worked alone. Superman had missed the comforting presence of the Dark Knight at his back. Growled tactical moves over the communicators had sent shivers down his spine, but he had only seen Bruce from a distance.

No one noticed an observer, with binoculars trained on the scene, from a nearby apartment building.

As soon as the battle was over, Batman simply vanished while Toyman was arrested yet again. Superman didn’t hang around and returned to Metropolis at high speed. 

As soon as he shut the doors to his balcony, his hand was inside his pants and he was jerking himself off desperately. A rumbled growl accompanied his orgasm. He sat and stared out the large window of his lounge but all he could see were the gouges his fingernails had left in the glass. He sighed deeply and wondered how much longer Bruce was going to make him wait.

*~*~*~*~* 

Bruce didn't attend the debrief later that same day. A video linkup from Gotham afforded critical analysis of the battle by Batman. No one was spared, and he seemed especially scathing of his appraisal of Superman.

"You were supposed to wait for Flash and Green Lantern to get into position. Rushing in to confront Toyman before the team was ready was irresponsible. It left teammates exposed and the plan very nearly fell apart. Again.” The growled bass notes derided from the monitor. 

Batman was typing as he spoke. A visual filled the largest screen to demonstrate that Flash had briefly been cornered by a group of robots when Superman had tripped an alarm that prematurely alerted the villains to the presence of the Justice League. The heroes had to work hard to clean up the mess and, despite being victorious, no one was celebrating.

The Man of Steel rubbed his neck and looked over at Flash. Barry just shrugged his shoulders and before Clark could apologise, he spoke up. 

"It's all good Big Blue, I took those nasty mechs down." Flash’s usual grin on Barry’s face.

"Not the point," Batman growled. 

Diana spoke up then, "Batman is correct Kal. You weren't dealing with this situation alone. You risked the safety of your colleagues and nearly made Batman's plan redundant. As it was, we were unable to obtain further information about the robots manufacture before they self destructed. They were a modified LuthorCorp design according to Cyborg. It's obvious a new combination of technology and tactics were involved, but we don't have any data on what prompted this attack, or who has been aiding and funding Toyman in this latest scheme. There seemed to be no obvious target. Once again, we are lacking information that could help determine what the goal was.” 

Superman slumped, shrinking a little further into his seat. It wasn't often that he was chastised in front of the other members. He felt his face heat up in a combination of embarrassment and frustration. Clark still had an inkling that Diana was chasing Bruce and by taking Batman’s side, and disparaging Clark, she was trying to get herself noticed.  

"Given that Toyman’s incursion appears to have been a setup, it was impulsive and reckless," the gravelly voice reproached from the screen. "It seems to be becoming a habit lately." 

Superman’s gaze shot up to the cowled figure on the monitor. Surely he wasn't referring to... Before he could ponder the question further he was interrupted by the gravelly voice of the Bat. It set his teeth on edge to be humiliated in front of the entire League.

"I recommend a full physical for Superman to ensure he's not compromised," the dark figure continued. 

This time all heads around the table looked up. Glancing between Batman on the monitor, and Superman at the conference table.

"You have concerns, Batman?" Aquaman queried in his deep voice. 

The Gotham vigilante just glared from the screen.

"Wait," the Green Lantern interrupted. "Have there been other incidents we aren't aware of?" 

Everyone knew that Hal was referring to the ‘Gotham Incident’. There had also been talk recently amongst some of the younger members about Superman’s peculiar behaviour. Neither Hal nor Barry were willing to speak up about Clark’s recent bizarre episode to Batman.

Oliver and Dinah had been working on a specific case and hadn’t spent much time around Clark or Bruce since the Gala. Diana had been kept busy with her diplomatic duties. The same could be said of Arthur, and his obligations as the Sea King. 

Shayera watched the interaction with a keen eye, while Barry and Hal shared a knowing look between them. Cyborg had been reassured by Superman’s clean bill of health by J’onn, but concern pricked once more at Batman’s implication. J’onn was particularly worried about the recent events that had occurred at the Watchtower.

Superman winced. 

"There have." The Gothamite cautioned.

At Batman's words, Superman eyes widened. He was almost positive Bruce wasn't going to tell everyone about a little domestic squabble but he still felt his heart thud angrily in his chest.

"Do you have information we aren’t privy to?" Arthur’s voice broke in.

"Nothing relevant that needs to be shared in detail. Superman has acted out of character on several occasions recently, including the now infamous Gotham Incident,” the voice grumbled from his Cave. 

All the faces swiveled towards Superman.

Some Man of Steel he was. He could only stare at his hands while he fought to control a blush that seemed to want to burn his face. His heart thundered in his chest while his head felt stuffed, overflowing with conflicting emotions. He hadn’t had any more extreme reactions to Bruce, and news of Gotham, since that night on Monitor Duty. It didn’t mean his dreams hadn’t been continuously plagued with the overwhelming desire to go and take what he wanted. Bruce belonged to him. He clenched his hands into tight fists, the pressure within enough to turn coal into diamonds.

"Kal-El, do you require assistance?" Martian Manhunter didn't need to enter  the superhero's mind to feel waves of emotion pouring out. 

"N… No," Clark stammered, "I'll go to the Fortress for a scan." This was as good as an admission of guilt from the brightly clad hero. He focussed on his breathing and deliberately unclenched his hands. He was already fighting himself to remain seated at the table, where he could hear Bruce’s voice, staving off an instinctual need to rush to the man. Clark cleared his mind as best he could.

"Hold on a minute." Flash stood from his seat. "I haven't seen any unusual behaviour. Superman always rushes the bad guy. It's what he does. Nothing else has been out of the ordinary. We shared part of my Monitor Duty shift just the other night. Everything was  _ fine _ ." Flash emphasised the word fine and squinted at Batman on the monitor. There had in fact been a strange incident but Barry pushed that from his mind. Clark had reassured them he was alright, and J’onn had said he would keep an eye on the Kryptonian. Barry wanted to believe all was well within the team. 

Batman glared and Flash reluctantly sat back down, looking over at Superman who wouldn't meet anyone's eyes.

A sudden alarm sounded from Batman's screen. 

"Trouble in Gotham. Batman out," was all Batman said before his screen went blank.

The other heroes looked at each other uncertainly. 

"Do you think he needs help?" Wonder Woman asked the room in general.

Green Lantern snorted, "You know how Spooky feels about others in His city."

"I will stay on top of the situation from the control room. If there is nothing further at this time?" Martian Manhunter queried. 

No one spoke up. Superman realised everyone was looking at him.

"Meeting adjourned. If anyone needs me, I'll be at the Fortress." He stood stiffly to make his way to the door.

Shayera slipped out of her seat and placed a hand on his arm as he passed. 

"Kal?" Her voice held a note of concern.

"It's ok Shayera. I'm sure nothing is wrong, but better to check, right?" A weak smile crossed his face.

"No one wants Batman on their case," Flash added from the opposite side. "But we're here for you."

Superman raised his eyes and looked from Shayera’s concerned face to see the other members of the League add nods of support. 

"Thanks everyone but I'm sure it's nothing." He left feeling somewhat unbalanced and a little dizzy.

"I will be monitoring the situation in Gotham. If you'll excuse me." Martian Manhunter made himself intangible, then drifted down into the floor, away from the unusual tension in the room. 

The problem with being a telepath was that when those around don’t shield themselves properly, he was witness to a multitude of stray thoughts and emotions. The strength of the sensations pouring from Superman had the Martian concerned enough to warrant further research into Kryptonian biology. He didn’t have an answer for the recent bouts of eccentric behaviour from the Man of Steel, and had begun looking into the matter. It hadn’t been a priority because Kal-El had stated he was fine and just needed some time in the sun. J’onn had felt he wasn’t being told the full truth. Only Barry, Hal, Victor and himself saw the unusual behaviour that evening. Batman’s concerns and Kal’s own reactions proved there was more going on than just a few unrelated occurrences. 

J’onn listened in on Batman’s capture of a particular Gang member, and subsequent interrogation, while he focussed most of his attention on delving into this mystery he had been presented with. To anyone else, the tightness of Batman’s voice through the modulator would be put down to anger but J’onn could hear an underlying tension. 

On the spur of the moment, he put in a call to the Cave and had a brief conversation with Alfred. The Englishman would never betray his ‘son’ but J’onn wasn’t a detective himself for nothing. Alfred also knew this, so a lot of information was passed between them by what wasn’t said. After disconnecting the call, he delved into the files that had been shared with the Watchtower by the Lantern Corps and the Guardians of Oa. 

What he found made him close his eyes briefly in comprehension and sadness. 

*~*~*~*~*

“Did you get the required data?” the voice on the phone asked. 

The leather clad man just grinned as the video footage replayed on several screens. Cameras had captured the action from many angles. The most interesting part was the way the World’s Finest hadn’t been in their usual formation. Everybody knew the pair were inseparable on the field. This valuable information made Toyman’s arrest worthwhile. 

“Can you do it?” the voice demanded again.

“Of course. The opportunity is close at hand. Something has broken the partnership between the dark and the light. It will be the best opportunity for success.” was the confident reply.

“Broken? Between the Kryptonian and the Bat? This is good news indeed. How much notice do you need if we fast track the timetable?” The voice on the phone sounded excited now.

“Less than a day, Mr Luthor.” Deadshot held the phone away from his ear as Lex Luthor cackled with glee on the other end.

“Finally, the time will come. All humanity will see that Superman is no god.” Lex spat into the phone. “We will let them see he can be brought down, and then the rest of the Justice League will follow. Without their leader, they will lose morale and be beaten at last.”

“You forget about the Batman,” Deadshot growled.

“The Bat is nothing without the muscle of the superpowered freak. Just because Gotham scum can’t handle a flying rodent, you needn’t worry for yourself. We have made arrangements for a special reunion for him.” The smirk on the other end of the phone was almost audible. “Begin making your preliminary arrangements. I will advise you within 24 hours of deployment.”

“It’ll be my pleasure, Mr Luthor.” Deadshot grinned as he ended the call.

*~*~*~*~*

Kal-El entered the Fortress of Solitude with a frown on his face. Did Batman truly believe him to be compromised? Recent events churned at his psyche. He admitted to himself he was acting out of character.  That evening at the Watchtower reinforced the notion that an indefinable ‘something’ was wrong. He had never suffered from diseases and although his logical mind knew they existed, he had seen many things since donning the cape, they had never applied to him before. 

Time spent in his apartment had been bothering him over the past weeks. Reminders of that event, when Bruce had visited with the Kryptonite, surrounded him. Every time he looked out his window, the grooves his nails had scratched into the surface, created conflict inside him. Equal parts of horror, elation and an unfamiliar burning heat coupled with that pull in his gut, a steady draw towards Gotham.

Several times over recent days he had come out of a dazed like state only to realise he had shifted his attention towards Metropolis' sister city. Listening to the steady beat of one unique heart. It was hypnotising. 

Just last night he had awoken from a dream to find himself already halfway across the bay with no idea of when he had left his home, not in uniform and his cock hard, at least he was wearing pyjamas.

It was this last event that concerned him the most. What if someone had seen him drifting out of his apartment, or seen him without his customary red and blue? This was his reasoning for taking Batman's words to heart. Not knowing why these irresistible urges seemed to be taking over made the tests at the Fortress more necessary.

Kal-El took a deep breath before giving the command to run every scan known to the data banks. 

A bright light enveloped him. 

The Fortress would find what was wrong with him, he had to believe that.

*~*~*~*~*

Bruce Wayne was at the office, going through the motions. The meeting with Lucius Fox was an hour away and he was determined to get all his other paperwork done beforehand. There were contingencies he needed to put into place and Fox had been hard at work. They needed time to work through Bruce's plans and assemble various components. 

The special Kryptonite project was multipurpose.

There was also the new software to assist him with his rudimentary understanding of the Kryptonian language. Hacking into Superman's systems would prove challenging but not impossible. He needed to know what was going on.

Painful throbbing in his skull reminded him that his damned headache hadn't left him. Using meditation techniques had only succeeded in lessening the severity. Rubbing his temples, he forced himself back to the task at hand.

*~*~*~*~*

Kal-El's eyes opened as the light faded from around him. Turning towards the monitor, the hologram of his father appeared. 

"My son," Jor-El sounded sad, but nothing prepared Clark for what followed.

Heart racing, he listened while scanning the medical information that appeared on screen. The symbols confirmed what he was hearing from Jor-El. A bout of nausea overwhelmed him.

"Oh Rao" he whispered. 

*~*~*~*~*


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The League speculates.
> 
> The Bat endures.
> 
> Superman learns more than he ever thought he wanted to know.
> 
> The villains plans moves closer and closer to fruition.
> 
> What will our heroes do?
> 
> *~*~*~*~*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was looked over by the amazing Lopithecus ❤ - go read her stuff!!!  
>  It’s awesome!
> 
> The formatting is on me hehehehe.
> 
> And as always, enjoy!!!
> 
> *~*~*~*~*

*~*~*~*~*

Batman strode into the control room. The only people present were Martian Manhunter and Cyborg. He hadn’t slept for days but Bruce was an expert at hiding such human failings from the League. He pulled together his strongest mental shielding. He also buried deep the worsening symptoms he had been experiencing.

“Cyborg,” the deep gravelly voice called. “Do you still have the files from the Intergang case?”

“Of course, Batman.” Cyborg tapped a few keys and the information flashed up on a nearby screen.

“Last night I received some new information. The case is ongoing until we identify the threat implied to the League and it’s members.” Bruce couldn’t miss the small smile on the teen’s face as he handed over a data key.

The monitor began to fill with the updated information. Bruce had carried a persistent suspicion that the case wasn’t closed. He’d kept his ear to the ground in Gotham for word of what evaded discovery, when the Intergang criminal had escaped during the weapon’s shipment bust. The man had been found dead the next day, but nothing of the missing cargo had been located. Penguin’s words of warning came back to haunt him although nothing further had been forthcoming from that quarter. Penguin seemed to lose any interest in working with the Bat after the Intergang bust.

J’onn turned towards Batman, looking at the cowled profile. He hadn’t had an opportunity to talk with the Bat since discovering more information on Kryptonian biology. J’onn opened his mind to sense if anything was forthcoming from the Dark Knight but, as usual, the thoughts were locked down tight.  Batman’s head swiveled towards him.

“J’onn.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement to indicate that the Gothamite had sensed J’onn’s presence in his mind.

“Have you spoken to Superman recently?” the Martian asked.

J’onn felt the tiniest leak of emotion from the vigilante. There was confusion, pain and desire. Batman seemed to clamp down on the small trickle as soon as it happened.

“No, I have not. Has there been news?” The deep voice showed no hint of the underlying feelings J’onn had detected.

“We have had no word, Batman. Superman remains at the Fortress of Solitude,” J’onn replied.

Batman merely nodded and returned his attention to the discussion of Intergang with Cyborg. J’onn didn’t try to enter the dark clad hero’s mind again and instead, listened to the details Batman was going over with Cyborg.

J’onn shook his head sadly. There had to be something he could do to help his friends but he could only observe and wait until they knew more from the tests at Kal’s Fortress.

*~*~*~*~*

Most of the members of the Justice League were aboard the Watchtower. It wasn’t uncommon for them to gather together when not busy with their other lives. Barry had instigated movie nights and other social events for them all. Tonight, no one seemed in the mood for movies or socializing.

Barry and Hal were playing some kind of video game, with Shayera heckling them at various times. Cyborg was at a nearby terminal doing research for Batman. Diana and Dinah were chatting together, and Oliver was sitting with J’onn.

The only ones missing were Batman, Aquaman and Superman.

J’onn decided it was time to, as the humans called it, address the elephant in the room. However, it was Oliver who brought up the subject with J’onn. The archer had been at the meeting, and seen the interaction between Superman and Batman, although had been uncharacteristically quiet at the time.  J’onn could feel the tension emanating from the man.

“What do you think, J’onn?” Oliver asked.

When J’onn had reacted with the equivalent of a raised eyebrow, the archer continued.

“Don’t play coy, J’onn. Is there something wrong with Superman?” Obvious concern laced his tone.

“There was an incident here at the Watchtower a few nights ago,” J’onn began. He then went on to outline Superman’s unusual symptoms.

“Why was none of this mentioned at the meeting?” Oliver asked, surprised that the important event had been kept quiet.

“We believed Kal when he said he was only lacking solar radiation. All our tests came back clear. There was no reason to inform the rest of the League unless indications showed incapacity or a risk to the League.” J’onn’s calm sonorous voice explained.

This time it was Oliver’s eyebrows that rose in disbelief.

“And when Batman informed us of the out of character activity of Superman? That was the perfect opportunity to raise the issue. You know more than you’re saying, J’onn.”

J’onn nodded his assent. Green Arrow was smarter than he let on most of the time.

“This is something I think should be discussed with the other members present here.” With those words, the Martian stood and cleared his throat in a very human way to get the attention of the other Leaguers.

Oliver didn’t like it. He still hadn’t breached Bruce’s confidence about the burgeoning relationship between the two men, but J’onn was right. After hearing of Superman’s symptoms and subsequent reactions at the meeting, there was nothing for it. This could effect the League and hinder their ability to work as a team. No one had missed that Batman and Superman had fought differently when faced with Toyman and the robots. He had wanted to talk to Bruce personally but, between an upsurge in Star City activity and JL duties, he hadn’t had an opportunity.

The heroes gathered around the informal area of the cafeteria to listen to J’onn. Dinah and Diana stayed on the couch, but Hal, Barry and Shayera had paused their game. Cyborg came to stand nearby.

“I have something I wish to discuss with you all,” the Martian began.

“We are not all in attendance, J’onn” Diana said, making reference to the three members not present.

“This concerns two of those members, Diana. I will speak with Arthur and inform him of this discussion,” J’onn replied seriously.

This statement seemed to galvanize the attention of all present. J’onn once more explained Superman’s peculiar symptoms at the Watchtower. Hal, Barry and Cyborg knew of the situation because they had been on the satellite at the time. Shayera’s brow creased with worry. Diana listened intently, fingers on her lasso in a subconscious gesture.

Dinah looked at Oliver, who was biting at his bottom lip and not meeting her gaze. They had not discussed Bruce and Clark since the Gala and she couldn’t help but wonder once more, what was her boyfriend not telling her.

“What else is there, J’onn?” Diana asked.

“As you are all aware, I do not actively breach your privacy by using my telepathy. However, there are times when I cannot help but overhear thoughts that are broadcast. Under normal circumstances, I would not discuss any of the background noise that I hear. This situation warrants an exception. Superman’s thoughts that evening at the Watchtower, and at the meeting when Batman suggested testing for any compromises, were disturbing,” the green skinned man said. It was obvious that he was conflicted about the revelation.

“Does this concern Bruce?” Oliver asked.

Without waiting to gauge the reactions around them, J’onn nodded again.

“Yes. Batman has a role in the problems Kal is facing,” he said.

“What is it, J’onn?” Diana asked, leaning forward on her seat.

J’onn sighed. Even now, amongst the current group of people, his empathic abilities were picking up various reactions.

Diana was worried for Bruce. She still carried a flame for the billionaire even if she would no longer act on it.

Shayera was more concerned for Kal. She had no knowledge of anything other than a working relationship between the two men.

Both Barry and Hal were still nervous about Superman’s bizarre behavior but had no notion of what Batman’s involvement could be.

Cyborg was calm, absorbing information, but also radiating puzzlement.

Oliver and Dinah were having similar reactions, but J’onn could feel the archer’s knowledge of Batman and Superman’s interest in each other. Dinah on the other hand, only suspected as much.

“Since the incident on the Watchtower, I have undertaken studies of Kryptonian biology. The issue I face is that the knowledge I have been obtaining is from the Lantern Corps database,” J’onn said and nodded towards Hal.

“Is there a problem with the data?” Hal asked. For once, the Green Lantern seemed to be taking this all very seriously because he was giving J’onn his full attention and hadn’t cracked a single joke at anyone’s expense.

“Not at all, Lantern,” J’onn replied calmly. “The information is very thorough. No, the problem lies with interpretation.”

“Wait, what?” Barry asked. “Your interpretation, J’onn, or the Guardians?”

All the members looked at J’onn for an explanation. 

“The interpretation issue is directly related to how Kryptonian biology and physiology is affected by Sol, and yellow sun radiation,” J’onn explained.

The room was still and quiet for a few moments, then many voices started speaking at once. J’onn held his hand up to quieten the din. 

“As some of you may be aware, Kryptonians had eschewed natural childbirth in favour of the birthing matrix utilising the Codex. The two unknown factors to consider are; our Sun, and that Kal was conceived and birthed in the natural way. An aberration if you will, of Kryptonian policy and the will of the council,” J’onn said.

“However, long ago, Kryptonians were driven by intuition to find a companion upon reaching a certain age. It is unclear what the criteria was for this biological imperative but they would seek out their counterpart and begin a process that most often ended in a contractual ritual that would somehow bind the pair together. Although the relationships varied from apprentice or mentor, to  guide or kindred spirit, to affiliate or partner, and beyond. This instinct had all but been bred out of the Kryptonian race because of frequent occurrences of misaligned politics surrounding the Great Houses. It is doubtful that Kal’s parents had it. Due to the nature of his birth, and exposure to our Sun, there is a chance that Superman is experiencing some sort of throwback symptoms to ancestral behaviour.” J’onn paused long enough for the information to sink in.

“What does this have to do with Bruce? Is Kal looking for a Brother In Arms or a Consort?” Diana asked quietly.

All the faces looked at J’onn expectantly. 

“I can’t be certain, Diana, but I believe that Kal’s predisposition has chosen Bruce because of their extended association. The long standing friendship between the World’s Finest could be misinterpreted by this inclination, and Kal is seeking to form a connection. It is unknown if this affinity can develop between Human and Kryptonian species. Even knowing this, Kal’s symptoms seem to be extreme and not complying with what the history the database contains.” J’onn paused again.

“It reminds me of medieval knights and their squires,” Cyborg spoke quietly into the room. “We did a study of that period in senior year.”

“The contractual ritual sounds more like what was done on Thanagar.” Shayera had a far away look in her eye as she spoke. “It was a blood oath taken to be akin to a sibling, or parent, a guide and guardian over the young ones as they grew up. War with the Gordanians took it’s toll on our people, so a system was formed to ensure that the future generations would grow up learning the ways of our people as well as being protected, and taught the necessary life skills.”

Flash was giggling in the corner. As the heads swivelled towards him, his face turned bright red.

“Sorry, I was just imagining Bats as a Mommy Bird.” Flash looked at Hal for support. “You know, regurgitating food and being protective?”

“Yeah, that is so not like Bats, being the soft and fluffy cooing Mommy type,” Hal snorted and slapped Barry on the back.

“Who are you calling soft and fluffy, Flyboy?” Shayera asked with a growl.

“So, Superman is looking for a teacher and a protector? But he isn’t aware of it or doesn’t understand it?” Dinah asked J’onn, scrunching her nose.

All the tension dissipated as the attention returned to J’onn. The Martian didn’t want to enter into the personal relationship aspect of the discussion, even if he himself saw similarities to Martian soul mates. After speaking with Alfred, and detecting symptoms in the two men, he felt certain that whatever Superman was experiencing was being shared symptomatically by Batman. This implied a deeper nexus than he had initially suspected. 

“Perhaps,” J’onn said cautiously. “I have not speculated beyond this point. Until Superman returns from the Fortress and is forthcoming with further information, any conjecture seems redundant. I do recommend keeping a close watch on Kal, for his own health’s sake. We cannot afford to let this pull the League apart. I had hoped for an opportunity to discuss this with Batman, but with Intergang causing more problems, he is busier than ever.”

“So a covenant between Bruce and Kal, similar to the sisterhood on Themyscira,” Diana said confidently.

“I lack the information to be certain of anything at this stage,” J’onn said sagely. “But I wished to keep you all informed, if an intervention is required then we all need to stand ready.”

Oliver had said very little during the whole discussion. His knowledge of events that had occurred between the pair left him feeling unsettled. He didn’t want to break his word to Bruce, but had concerns. He had the most pieces of the puzzle for the moment, and knew that the relationship wasn’t as platonic as what was being implied. J’onn’s information took the whole situation one step further than what he had previously thought. 

“It never hurts to be prepared,” Oliver said thoughtfully. Dinah looked over at him but he didn’t want to think about the questioning she would put him through later. There was nothing for it. He had to see Bruce as soon as possible.

“Cyborg,” the archer called. “What time is it in Gotham?”

“Coming up on 11pm,” the teen replied.

“I’m going to head down and talk to Bruce. Someone needs to tell him what’s going on. Or at least what we speculate could be going on,” Ollie said with a frown on his face. Bruce can be difficult to talk to, but this was important. He needed to know.

“I’ll come with you,” Dinah said as she started to get up from the lounge.

“No, no, Little Bird,” Oliver replied quickly. “We all know how he can get if we all turn up in his city at once. Let me handle this one, please? Let me know what everyone comes up with as a contingency, in case it all goes south.”

Dinah nodded and Oliver turned on his heel, leaving the others to their planning. J’onn sent a silent mental good luck after the archer. Oliver may have some training in shielding his thoughts, but he wasn’t as good as Batman. J’onn had picked up on the concern that radiated from Oliver’s mind.

The group didn’t come up with any plans, there were too many unknown variables to have a solid idea of what to expect. Batman was the expert in contingencies. They all agreed to keep a watch on Superman for any more strange occurrences. 

*~*~*~*~*

Batman’s breath fogged in the crisp night air. Around him, the streets were abnormally quiet. The almost silent steps from behind had him reaching for a Batarang before recognising the careful tread. His hand gripped the Batarang as he called to the now familiar intruder.

“What do you want?” the modulated tone growled. The intermittent traffic as people rushed home, not willing to linger in Gotham after dark, drifted up to break the silence of the night.

A careful inhalation of breath alerted Bruce and he whirled to face the unwelcome visitor, the Batarang clearly visible in his hand. The man crouched down nearby and tried not to flinch at the sight of the potentially fatal weapon.

“Bruce,” the hushed voice began.

“Code names.” Batman spoke, the derision clear in his tone.

“Batman, I need to talk to you,” the man tried again.

The roar in Bruce’s head seemed to crest and hang for a moment, as if caught up in a tempest at sea. It crashed down inside his skull giving a jolt of renewed pain. He didn’t hear the next words from the interloper. The wind whipped around them, making his cape twitch and snap. 

“You had to come to my city instead of utilising one of several forms of communication available to you?” Batman’s voice rasped.

The visitor didn’t respond, instead measuring him with a piercing stare.

“Get out,” Bruce continued flatly.

“But I have to….” the crouched figure wasn’t allowed to continue.

“You have to what?” Bruce sneered. “You think I need your interference? Your help? I don’t need anyone. I won’t tell you again, get out of Gotham.”

If it was possible to hear the rolling of eyes, Bruce would have heard it clearly. What he did hear was the audible sigh.

“Just listen to me for once in your damn life!” There was no mistaking the frustration in the tone.

Batman huffed in annoyance and turned his back in a clearly dismissive gesture, readying the grapple.

“B, wait,” The man pleaded.

Bruce fired and leapt onto the open space. Moments before he landed, a ripping pull in his gut nearly sucked all the air out of his lungs. Batman tried to control his descent but ended in an undignified heap. He was soon joined by his uninvited visitor. As pain gripped him once more, he saw a hand extended towards him in his peripheral vision. He swatted the hand away in annoyance and attempted to stand on his own, only to double over and heave clear liquid onto the concrete roof surface. This only served to make him even angrier.

“I don’t have time for your circle of Kumbaya, feel good, hippie bullshit.” he growled.

“I need to talk to you. I have inform…” but once more the man was cut off.

“Fuck off,” the Bat gritted. He spat onto the roof and started walking it’s length, away from the visitor. He was close to the car, only two roofs over and down into an alley. It was quiet enough that he could return to the cave. Alfred’s fussing was preferable to showing weakness in front of his unwanted co-worker.

A hand clamped down on his arm and Bruce looked at it for a split second before he grabbed the wrist and twisted. A yelp of pain and suddenly the man was on his back. Bruce kept walking.

“Asshole!” The voice followed him across the next roof. “I was only trying to help you sanctimonious prick.”

The Bat made it to his car without further interruptions and tore out of the alley at full throttle.

On a nearby rooftop, Oliver just shook his head and massaged his sore wrist.

*~*~*~*~*

Clark paced back and forth in his Fortress. It had been two days since he arrived and he still didn’t know what he was going to do. The AI of his father, Jor-El, watched with infinite patience.

“We should run the tests again, maybe there was a mistake,” Clark said, desperation clear in his tone.

“If you wish, my son,” Jor-El replied. “However, there has been no mistake. The results will be the same.”

Clark pulled at his hair in frustration. He could feel the building pull in his gut and the pounding in his head. Anger built once more but dissipated as soon as he realised what it was. He dropped his hands and sighed.

“But, I don’t understand,” he entreated at his father’s hologram.

“What part was unclear, my son?” Jor-El asked.

“It’s not the explanation that was unclear. I just don’t…” Clark’s words stuttered to a halt. “Why didn’t you say anything about this sooner?”

“There were no precedents for this, Kal-El,” the hologram said. “There was no way of knowing if the events you are experiencing could occur on Earth.”

“But it’s obvious Bruce is dealing with these symptoms too. He’s human, and I’m… I… I’m not.” Clark gulped at the last words. He’d always hated that he wasn’t a part of the people of this world.

“This system, this planet, was chosen for it’s similarities to Kryptonian genetics, not just for what it’s young sun could do for you. For this human to experience the same as yourself? It only goes to enforce that this is a singular match that is once in a lifetime. There is perhaps no other in the universe that would be your…” the AI was interrupted.

“Yes, yes, so you’ve said.” Clark was clearly irritated now. “What you don’t understand is that he is the most infuriating, stubborn and independent man on the planet. He would never concede to be…” Clark stopped pacing and stared at the hologram that floated before him. “He lives a dangerous life. He doesn’t like to accept help, from anyone. He will reject this.”

“It would seem that neither of you has a choice in this matter. The fact that you have consummated the bond has strengthened it beyond what could be broken by separation. If you had not engaged with each other, there are measures that could have been taken. As it is, there are only a few more steps until the permanent bond is solidified. Nothing except death can break it now. And even if the human dies, you will suffer great agony Kal-El. I do not wish to see you endure such a thing,” Jor-El said.

“He is human, Father,” Clark spoke softly. “I will outlive him anyway. It is inevitable.”

“I’m sorry, my son,” Jor-El said sadly. For all that he was a hologram, it truly looked as if he wished to wrap his arms around Clark and comfort him. 

Clark sat, the Fortress forming a chair around him without command, and placed his head in his hands. Tears began to fall as Clark resolved himself to the loss, whether it be now or in the future.

*~*~*~*~*

Lex Luthor was sitting in his penthouse, drinking from a large crystal cut tumbler. The amber coloured alcohol burned on his tongue. He drank the expensive whiskey down in a long gulp and felt the heat coalesce in his stomach. All his careful planning was coming together. The last piece of the puzzle was on a plane and would land on US soil within the hour.

Finally, the world would see what he had always seen. The threat posed by Superman. It would be all too easy to just kill the people’s hero. No, the alien had to be brought down by his own Kryptonian hands so that the ‘sheep’ of the planet wouldn’t martyr the Man of Steel.

Lex’s teeth crunched down on one of the ice cubes from his empty glass and he picked up the phone to send a message. He smirked proudly to himself. As much as he hated to rely on others, the necessary accomplices had been gathered, he was confident that his plan was foolproof. Handy when working with fools, he scoffed to himself. A devastatingly simple plan that even those idiots couldn’t foul up.

A reply on his phone shook the billionaire from his contemplations. Good, the assassin would be ready. 

*~*~*~*~*


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Justice League try to have a meeting.
> 
> The villains try to kill the president.
> 
> The trap is set, but will the bait be taken?
> 
> A whole lot of stuff is happening.
> 
> How will our boys cope?
> 
> *~*~*~*~*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a real struggle. In fact, it is one of the hardest chapters to date. I wanted to convey so much to you, the reader, so that you really felt like you were watching the scenes from nearby. The confusion of a fight, the experiences of wounds etc. Admittedly, I haven’t written battles before so I didn’t go into the details about it all and left a lot to your own imaginations. The important parts are here and that’s what counts, right?
> 
> Many thanks, as always, to the special people in my life who helped with this chapter. My constant complaining that it wasn’t up to standard or what I wanted - I know you got sick of hearing it. I thankyou for your patience and advice. This chapter wouldn’t exist without you. Many many many hugs and plates of Alfred’s home made cookies as blatant bribery.
> 
> The story will start to get dark soon, so be sure to check the updated warnings on all chapters, please?
> 
> And to my loyal readers, your comments are what kept me going. There have been times when I wanted to give up in the past but none as strong as what I experienced through this chapter. Your support and encouragement mean everything to me.  
> ❤
> 
> And as always, enjoy!!!
> 
> *~*~*~*~*

*~*~*~*~*

Bruce sat on the edge of his bunk, holding the cowl in his hands. The empty holes stared at him, as if seeing into his soul. He knew he wasn’t at his best at the moment, but Justice never rested and neither would he. He hoped the link up to the Fortress would give him some answers to the unusual symptoms he had been experiencing. Bruce hadn’t meant to be so tough on Oliver the other night. 

The gaping black gaze of the cowl seemed to be mocking him, and he wanted nothing more than to throw it with the pent up frustration that was steadily building inside him. The range of emotions eating away at him only seemed to aggravate the Gothamite further. Alfred had expressed concern and now his teammates seemed to be sensing a change as well. But an unknown threat hovered over the League, and he didn’t have time to wallow in his own self doubt. Despite wanting to contact Kal constantly, he had held himself at bay. He was only at the Watchtower because of a regularly scheduled meeting, and he had information to share regarding Intergang. It was scanty at best, but it was all he had.

Leaping from the bed, the cowl discarded on the blankets behind him, he made it to the bathroom facility as his stomach heaved. Nothing came up except more clear liquid. He hadn’t eaten in days and the dizziness was nearly overwhelming. He couldn’t go on like this. It was affecting all aspects of his life. At a loss to explain what was happening to him, the only thing he knew for sure was that he felt better when in proximity to Clark. The not knowing was irking him and making him even more irritable. 

A chime from the door broke him from his thoughts. It was only a few steps to press his hand to the intercom.

“What?” He didn’t need to affect the rasp in his voice.

“Spooky? The meeting is about to start. Just checking to see if you were alright?” The Green Lantern’s voice came through the speaker.

“I’m fine. I’ll be right there,” he growled.

Stepping back into the utilitarian ensuite, he quickly rinsed his mouth and looked at his haggard visage in the mirror. Dark circles hung under his eyes, and his cheeks were hollowed. Bruce was again grateful that he had a cowl to disguise himself.

Stalking to the bed, he picked up the cowl and stared once more into the sightless eyes. 

“Don’t start,” he grumbled as he donned the mask. Attaching his cape that was draped over a nearby chair, he gathered the information materials from the desk and hurried to the conference room.

*~*~*~*~*

Clark watched the monitor before him from the Fortress. It showed the conference room aboard the WatchTower. Questions about his health and wellbeing by his fellow teammates had been successfully evaded without any blatant lies. He was watching the edge of the screen to see when Batman would enter. Every time the door opened, he tried to hide his disappointment as another member joined the group. He wanted, more than anything, to be there. The churning and pulling inside him was relentless. It didn’t matter that he had a name for it now. In fact, it probably made it worse. Batman was going to have kittens when he found out about it. Clark knew the Dark Knight wouldn’t accept it. Nothing ever came before the Mission. As much as it tugged and dragged, raw against his nerves, the flushed heat coming and going, the inherent desire to go and take what his Kryptonian DNA demanded, he couldn’t. The pressure building up inside him felt unbearable.  

Off to the side, the hologram of Jor-El watched his son intently. He could see the symptoms of Bond withdrawal even if Kal-El denied it. Bags lingered under impervious eyes, and the hands twitched at movements on the screen. Jor-El shook his head sadly. The denial and arguments Kal had with him over the past few days were useless against the evidence before his eyes.

Kal was in the process of becoming Bonded, and Jor-El knew it. The question now was, what was the Last Son of Krypton going to do about it.

*~*~*~*~*

The room silenced as Batman entered. He did not look up at the screen which showed Kal’s visage. He brought the meeting to order, taking position at the head of the table and using his infamous BatGlare to quieten down the rowdy young members. The information obtained the previous evening from Gotham indicated that Intergang wasn’t done with his city, or the Justice League, yet. As he sat in Clark’s chair, he couldn’t help but seek out any remnant of the man lingering in this place. He pushed it quickly away as he identified what he was subconsciously doing. Taking a final deep inhalation, he spoke quickly and efficiently.

Halfway through the brief, alarms went off in the WatchTower. Cyborg patched the monitors through to show robots and Intergang attacking the White House. The security personnel were vastly outnumbered. It didn’t require any discussion amongst the Leaguers. A few nods were exchanged and everyone started moving.

Clark watched from the Fortress, unsure if he should have left already. He opened his mouth to speak when he stopped. Batman was looking directly at the feed, straight at him. It was the first time he had even been acknowledged by the black clad vigilante. The rest of the Leaguers halted their exits, except for Flash who was already long gone. 

“Stay in the Fortress,” was all the cowled figure said. Time seemed to stand still for both of them as they just looked at each other. Clark’s mouth had dried up, and he didn’t want to even blink to break the spell of gazing at each other. He felt the tension inside him thrum in acknowledgement. Bruce seemed about to speak again when Diana’s hand on the Kevlar clad arm snapped the Dark Knight out of it. The strong jaw closed with a snap and he whirled, cape snapping with the action of it, stalking from the room. The rest of the Leaguers moved in a well rehearsed movement. They had worked together long enough to know what was expected. 

Clark shifted the focus of his stream to the area of battle. He ran his hand through his hair as he saw the destruction being wrought upon the civilians and staff alike. He should be there. Frustration built up rapidly but so did the feeling of helplessness. All he could do was watch.

*~*~*~*~*

The Justice League arrived on the scene just as all Hell seemed to break loose. Secret Service men and women fired on the teleported Leaguers as Green Lantern put up a protective shield. 

“Hey, we’re on your side,” Hal called and a few muttered sorry’s came back to the group and, as one, they turned to face the threat. It seemed a conglomeration of Intergang members had banded together with Lex Luthor, and his army of robots, for an attack on the president. 

There were no shadows for Batman to slink into, so he ducked behind a nearby vehicle to take stock of the situation. Luthor was easily recognisable wearing his War Suit, with green laced lasers that ripped into anything nearby. Kryptonite. Batman grimaced to himself. It was a good thing Superman had been instructed to remain at his Fortress. The veritable army of robots, of a similar design to the recent Toyman incursion, were marching towards the White House. 

Batman called strategy to League members, secretly glad Superman wasn't there when more of the green kryptonite lasers were fired by the robots. Kryptonite or not, they were still capable of doing damage. He couldn’t help wondering what Luthor hoped to gain by attacking the president. In conjunction with the kryptonite lasers, he began to put together the pieces and realise it was some kind of setup for Superman. 

Batman sent Flash and Green Lantern to protect the civilians. Diana and Shayera were working with the secret service agents to hold a line against the machines until he could get a better bearing. Cyborg was hacking into nearby computer signals to try and obtain information, or interrupt the signals to the robots. Dinah and Oliver rushed to take cover. J’onn had remained aboard the WatchTower to coordinate efforts with civilian emergency services. He couldn’t help wishing Arthur was with them but the King of the Sea had sovereign duties more often than not. It wasn’t uncommon for the Atlantean to be missing from battles.

The heavy thud and shriek of hot armor piercing rounds pounded into the side of the vehicle he was hiding behind. He could smell the molten metal of them and knew he needed to move. He searched for a place to dart to as the vehicle was riddled with gaping holes, tearing the metal with a screech. 

He recognised the weapons and ammunition from what was previously found in the Gotham raid. The distinctive note of the heavy calibre blasted through the noise of people screaming. He hated the fact that they had slipped past him somehow, and were being used by the human component of the enemy. He scowled as the car he was crouched behind relentlessly continued to be torn to shreds. Huge holes were punched along the side, blowing through the doors, destroying the interior and travelling along an easily predictable path. He attempted to flatten himself down, out of the way of the destruction but it was inevitable. With the limited cover and nothing to halt the deadly metal, even as he swung himself to the side to avoid the spray, he knew it was coming. There was nowhere to go. The radio chatter ratcheted up and he heard his name called a few times as he turned his face from the shattered glass that rained down.

Heat. 

Agony. 

It burned as hot as the sun as the first round went tearing through his Nomex Kevlar blend like butter. Human flesh did little to slow it down and it passed through him as if he wasn’t there. His mouth opened in a silent gasp as the exit left a gaping hole in both him and the suit. The next barrage resulted in two more bursts of searing fire ripping right through him and he was left panting for air that tore at his lungs in their wake. The smell of his own scorched flesh forced him to get moving again as another staccato of cracks tear through the remains of the vehicle. 

He’d been hurt before and kept going, he thought to himself. This time would be no different.

Around him, the once expensive car was disintegrating under the onslaught. There was a brief reprieve as the gunmen found a new target.

“Batman, are you injured?” Diana called through the comms.

Bruce grunted, and his hands shook, as he applied pressure to gauzes retrieved from the first aid kit on his belt. He slumped back against the smoking carcass of the car. He would need more substantial cover at this rate. Seeing a military HumVee parked nearby, he started preparing to move towards it when the sun was suddenly blocked out. A hard yank on his cape sent him toppling, disorientating him for a moment. He must have been more wounded than he thought if he let anyone get that close.

“Batman,” a thickly accented voice boomed. 

He knew that voice. It was also the reason why the gunmen had stopped firing on the vehicle.

Batman looked up at the huge figure looming before him, one thick meaty hand wrapped in his cape.

“Bane,” he growled. There was no time for more words as he was spun in an overarm throw down onto the car he had been hiding behind. The barely supported roof structure crumpled around him. The rain of fibres from the seat filling fell like snow. There was ringing in his ears but he does his best to ignore it as his hands scrabbled for the clasps of his cape. Before he can take further action, he was wrenched into the air once more. Blood began to run down his body and pool under where his feet hung in the air. 

All the anger and frustration that had been building up over previous days spilled out, and with a snarl, he kicked out at Bane’s face.

The giant of a man released his cape, and Batman landed on the ground prepared, wounds temporarily forgotten in a surge of aggravated adrenaline. His hands reached towards his belt as the tang of acid bit at the back of his throat. 

Batman’s lips pulled back in a snarl as he leapt towards his enemy, bloodied footprints left in his wake. The sounds of fighting in the background were put to the side as he engaged. Coming in low, he used his legs again to kick at Bane’s knees.

“Batman? What do we do?” called Flash over the comms.

“Busy,” he growled, ducking a clothesline sweep that would have taken his head off.

“Do you require assistance?” Diana asked.

“No!” he gritted out. He missed the indications of the hook that connected with his gut, throwing him backwards several meters. Spitting out a gob of blood onto the pavement, he wiped a gauntlet across his mouth and managed to roll away from a huge foot stomping towards his head. 

A feral grin could be seen under the frowning visage of the cowl. He couldn’t afford to hold back anymore. He wouldn’t.

“That is the smile of someone who wants to fight,” Bane remarked with a smirk.

Batman rolled up and made a come hither gesture with one hand, while the other found a smoke bomb in his belt. As Bane charged, he discharged the pellet and flipped over the top of the huge South American. He reached for the venom fuelled lines that fed into the man as he swept over head, but Bane twisted at the last minute and Batman missed. The landing was rough, but he retained his footing, spinning back to face the massive wall of muscle.

“I will finally get my chance to break you, Bat. I must remember to thank Luthor properly when this is over,” the large South American laughed. 

Batman noted the reference to Luthor but didn’t have time for more than that as Bane pressed his advantage of height and weight against the injured Caped Crusader.

*~*~*~*~*

Clark’s eyes were glued to the screen. He’d physically flinched when the bullets were flying towards Batman and cried out when he saw all the blood. 

Watching Bruce press gauze against the wounds made the pulse pound in his head. If the injuries were minor, then Batman wouldn’t have bothered with the field dressings. Seeing the cover that Bruce was crouched behind torn apart by the ammunition from the guns made him feel sick to his core. When Bane grabbed the dark flowing cape, Clark was no longer standing in the Fortress. The sonic boom left in his wake shook snow that capped the nearby mountains. Instinct had overridden logic and orders at this point. All he knew was that he had to act.

Jor-El watched the monitors intently. He hoped, for Kal-El’s sake, that this wasn’t a prelude to the death they had so recently discussed. Although the Bond wasn’t fully formed, it would be very difficult to avoid the devastation as a result of the new, yet incomplete, bonding between the pair if it wasn’t able to achieve all-encompassing actualisation.

*~*~*~*~* 

Bruce couldn’t afford to lose consciousness as Diana held him in her arms. The smoking wreckage of robots lay all around. Security personnel herded the Intergang members into a truck and special care was taken to put a ranting Luthor into the back of a secure police vehicle.

“Woah, Spooky, took a beating,” Green Lantern snickered. 

Flash punched Hal in the shoulder as Bruce glared.

“There is more to this…” Bruce started to say, but his wounds were overwhelming him. 

“It was a trap,” he mumbled after taking a few shallow breaths.

While he was being carried to a more private and secure area, he heard Shayera’s voice.

“Well, it’s about time,” she grumbled. The accompanying woosh along with blue in his peripheral vision made Bruce groan. A small gesture had Diana lowering his feet towards the ground, but he still couldn’t stand on his own.

“What are you doing here?” Bruce growled. 

Superman looked more like a kicked puppy than ever before. 

“I would have been here sooner, but  _ someone _ ordered me to remain at the Fortress. I was watching the battle on my monitors and couldn’t just sit idly by,” Clark replied defensively.

Bruce just groaned. The whole attack by Luthor and Bane was somehow off, and with the robots armed with kryptonite lasers, his gut instincts were telling him it was a trap for Superman. However, the sudden alleviation of the incapacitating symptoms that had been steadily increasing over the last few days seemed to leave him unable to speak. As a sigh left him, he had to admit, the proximity of the Man of Steel helped more than he cared to acknowledge. 

He felt well enough able to pull away from Diana momentarily, despite the injuries sustained by the bullets and Bane. He was subconsciously reaching for the blue clad hero. 

*~*~*~*~*

In the distance, Deadshot aimed through the scope of a high powered weapon. He couldn’t hesitate. He had been holed up nearby for the duration of the battle, waiting for the arrival of Superman. Being assured that it will work is one thing, taking the risk is another. His hand gripped the specially made gun and relaxed as he exhaled. As all the breath left his lungs, his finger expertly flipped the safety off and began to squeeze the trigger. He controlled the rush of adrenalin that threatened to surge through him. Another slow inhale. He knows how much pressure the trigger can take and pulled it to that friction point. Halfway through the drawn out exhale, he took the shot. 

He watched the curl of almost invisible smoke that rose from the muzzle. He didn’t wait to see if the shot hit the intended target. He knows his aim is true. He’s moving before the custom bullet sinks into what is supposed to be invulnerable flesh. He doesn’t see the tip glow green and the body of the round glow red. 

Deadshot escapes.

*~*~*~*~*

The crackling boom of a single shot rang clear in the stillness of post battle noise. 

Clark looked around briefly before he felt a warmth spreading on his chest and the wide eyed gaze of his friends. He was about to ask what had them all gaping when he looked down.

There, centred perfectly in his house emblem, red bloomed. A pale glow of green and red twisted the colours of his shield. 

Impossible. 

He shook his head in disbelief before his knees gave out, no longer able to stand on his own. 

Bruce fell with him and attempted to hold him up. He could see those lips he desired so much moving but he couldn’t hear the words. 

In fact, he couldn’t seem to hear anything. 

He reached towards Bruce but ended up toppling down onto the concrete. 

Sound rushed in suddenly. 

Shouting. People screaming. 

Batman was giving orders, pointing across at a building and sending Flash to find a sniper. 

Clark was briefly concerned for Bruce if there was a shooter nearby. The rest of the Leaguers present seemed to be pushing back reporters and demanding room. Photographer’s bulbs flashed in his face and he squinted against the unexpected brightness. Bruce rolled him over onto his back and all Clark could think about was how those black gauntleted hands were finally on him. 

*~*~*~*~*


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *~*~*~*~*
> 
> The Aftermath of the big fight.
> 
> Batman is severely injured.
> 
> Superman is shot.
> 
> Lex is the only one pleased by the outcome of events.
> 
> What else is going on?
> 
> A short chapter to get back into the groove.
> 
> *~*~*~*~*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *~*~*~*~*
> 
> Hi everyone,  
> Sorry for the delays. I was away on vacation and didn't get any writing done.  
> But I had a great vacation!
> 
> This chapter is a little short, I admit, but I wanted to get something out to you all.
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Cheers.
> 
> *~*~*~*~*

*~*~*~*~*

Lex watched from the back of the police car. 

_ YES _ ! He cried to himself when he saw the Man of Steel topple onto the ground. People started screaming again and a perimeter of humanity blocked his view. He didn’t need to see, he could hear the fear in the voices. 

The Bat had been injured, but Lex had caught a glimpse of the black cape moving forward after the precious, beautiful sound that had cut through the air. Batman would ensure his friend did not die. 

What Batman didn’t know, what Lex had planned for, was the special nature of the bullet. Lex was counting on Batman’s injuries to miss how the bullet broke up into three neat segments, how the most obvious part was a ploy.

It had taken years of research, a lot of money and the planning of a true genius, to get to this point. Superman wouldn’t die, but neither would he be the same. Stumbling upon the red kryptonite and learning how it affected the Kryptonian had been his greatest moment. His planning had started from that very point in time, leaving nothing to chance. Every clue, every skirmish, designed to bring forth this moment of victory.

His head whipped around at the noise of the door of the police cruiser being opened, the one away from the fracas. He grinned when he saw Mercy use a small device to turn off the interior light. 

Lex shifted his weight silently, allowing access to the handcuffs that wrapped around his wrists. It was mere seconds until he felt the steel slide away and then the pair of them were moving. A jacket thrown over him hid the distinctive remnants of his War Suit, and they effortlessly moved past the police who were staring at the gathered crowd.

They reached the car without incident and Mercy took the seat behind the wheel.

“Where to, Mr Luthor?” she asked. The first words they had exchanged.

“The Penthouse of course, Mercy,” he replied, rubbing at his wrists. “We don’t want to miss any media coverage of the excitement.”

The car started and moved away unnoticed amongst the throng of media and emergency services.

*~*~*~*~*

Lois stood stock still as people moved and pressed around her. 

She had always enjoyed her job as a reporter, and knowing about Clark gave her better access than any of the other journalists. The Leaguers knew her, of course, knew she could be trusted so she wasn’t herded back with the rest of the paparazzi. She had a clear, unobstructed view of everything. For the first time in her career, she wished she didn’t.

She’d taken notes at the end of the battle. Flash had even come over to her to make sure she was alright. They’d smiled together when Bane was led into the large SWAT truck. Batman’s fight had been brutal but ultimately the Dark Knight had been victorious. Lois even had a batarang tucked into her purse, picked up from nearby when Bane had gone down. She’d seen how Batman had been caught by Wonder Woman before collapsing to the ground. Her brow had puckered at the sight of all the blood. It hadn’t been obvious against the black uniform at first. When the first slick drops had hit the ground, Lois looked harder. Her hand had flown to her mouth when she saw just how badly wounded he was. It was easy to forget that the great Batman was only human when he fought alongside, and held his own, with the powered members of the Justice League. The other heroes had gathered around their comrade in concern. 

Then Superman had finally shown up. Lois had wondered where he was for the duration of the battle, why he hadn’t been there to help his teammates. She’d added a small question mark to the end of her notes before closing the book and putting it away. She held out the recorder to catch any words Clark had to share when that terrible sound had split the air, captured forever as part of a sound byte. Nearby cameras caught the stunned expressions as the front of Superman’s uniform changed colour. Then chaos had reigned. There was screaming and shouting. Lois experienced it in slow motion at first before it started speeding up into a blur of confusion. Orders were barked. Bodies were moved back and Lois was caught up in the crowd. Green Lantern put some kind of shield up at some point and she could only make out muted figures behind it. 

She stood there, the light of the construct bright against the pale pallor of her face. She couldn’t move. Clark was down, he’d been shot. The question echoed through her mind. 

How?

*~*~*~*~*

Clark felt strange. The usually invulnerable man had a gaping hole in his chest. A panicked laugh nearly bubbled up to the surface. He was a reporter, and he had no words to describe the feeling he was experiencing. Sure, he was familiar with the pain of Kryptonite. The sensation of his blood curdling when in proximity to the xenomineral had been experienced often enough. No, this was something else. A tingling that went from his toes to his head. 

Bruce was leaning over him. A smile crept over the Kryptonian face as he enjoyed the proximity. 

“Bruce,” he whispered.

“Code names,” Batman growled. It came out as a low rumble. 

He felt it deep in his gut, an echoing satisfied thrum. 

*~*~*~*~*

Bruce steadied himself, fought to gain back his control until he was calm. When he was certain he could focus, he snapped out instructions until he coughed suddenly. It sounded wet and sticky, and he struggled to inhale normally for a few breaths. He looked down at Clark’s eyes; the vibrant blue was already staring at him. His name was on those moist, pink lips. 

He leaned forward slowly, not breaking that gaze by looking away. 

The Kryptonian’s tongue dipped out to brush against Clark’s bottom lip, before biting down on the invulnerable flesh. 

Bruce stopped, stared for a long moment, before he turned his head to listen to Clark’s chest. He was listening to Clark’s heart beating, rapid, and lungs, gulping air, to determine how bad the Kyrptonite’s effects were. He swallowed painfully as the side of his face rested on tensed abdominal muscles. The material of the blue uniform was slick, he noted. 

His hand shook slightly as he reached for a pouch on his belt, but he ignored the sign of weakness just as he ignored the light headedness and vision that was slightly fuzzy around the edges. Something settled in his stomach, a warmth, like a bright light started to burn inside him. There was also a coiling heat that made him clench his ass cheeks uncontrollably. Involuntarily. His head pounded a little less and his tired eyes felt like there was less pressure behind them. He took a steadying breath and just listened.

There was still strength there. The heartbeat was strong, if a little high. 

Batman sat up in a fluid motion. 

Flash was behind him, but was watching Batman’s back. 

“Report,” the deep voice had a hint of gratitude in it.

“Apartment was clean. But.. but,” Barry looked away momentarily before he looked back down at the frowning cowl. “No sign of the perp. I only found the shell casing. I think it was deliberate because it’s engraved.” 

The words tumbled out faster than usual and it took Bruce a moment to parse their meaning out in his head. He held the largest field dressing kit he carried in his belt, in his hands, half unwrapped, when he paused and stared at Barry.

“Continue,” the low voice invited.

Barry blinked and had to physically restrain himself from going sonic. “The bullet is with forensics, but the engraving was visible, it was L.L. Well, I ran past the police cruiser but it was empty. I couldn’t stop to ask where they had moved him to. But I did go back and check… afterwards, and…  well…  Luthor has escaped.” 

Bruce continued to stare at Barry. 

Barry rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly. That moment felt like one of the longest of Barry’s life. Sometimes his perception of time could get a little skewed. The way that stare just bored into him. Like it was seeing inside his head. Like it knew what he was thinking.

There was a snap of fingers in front of Barry’s face to draw his attention back to the present. 

Batman’s gauntlets caught his eyes. 

Blood.

The smell hit him and made him feel sick. 

All he could do was watch as Batman straddled Superman’s waist and rested the medical supplies below the wound. A mini surgical kit was inside separately wrapped stiff cardboard trays, concertinaed into themselves. Batman selected two of the trays, separating them from the rest. The wrapping was stretched out underneath them. Strong thighs held the trays in place, but Barry saw the seeping circle of red come through the sterile layer. 

Blood that didn’t belong to Superman. 

Barry glanced up again, but Bruce was lining a pair of forceps up near the opening. 

Laser like focus only on Superman. Once again, Bruce’s hands trembled and came to a complete stop. 

Barry watched as the man inhaled, as deeply as his injuries would allow, and huffed all the air from his lungs. Then the forceps entered the wound. There was no sign of shaking, steady and precise. The glowing green tip was pulled out. 

Barry’s eyes went wide seeing the Kryptonite. After a quick examination, it was put into an existing lead lined pouch on Batman’s utility belt. 

Barry straightened up suddenly as he felt watched. He spun on the spot to see a man with a large camera unit on his shoulder. Barry stepped over quickly to herd the inconsiderate paparazzi away.

When he turned back to Batman, he could see distinct pools of blood forming on the ground. Pools of blood that were not near Superman’s chest, but were dripping from above Batman’s boots and legs. The forceps went into the wound again. 

Barry watched in slow motion as minute movements located the second shrapnel piece and extracted it. He could also see the wound was closing, healing after the removal of the green kryptonite. 

Barry moved forward to help and he was handed a red glowing speck. Batman didn’t even look in his direction.

“There’s at least one more,” the Dark Knight rasped. 

Bruce had seen the glowing indications of the separated shrapnel pieces. It was to be expected from something with Lex Luthor’s name literally written all over it. 

Bruce desperately hoped that there wasn’t more that he couldn’t see. His vision wavered but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t. Bruce felt his symptoms relent when in proximity to Superman, when he first arrived. He had also felt it shift during the procedure. 

The thrumming in his gut had changed. Now it vibrated and agitated him. There was an intensity. It didn’t help the wounds across his abdomen either because it was causing him to tense and relax his muscles in a way that didn’t make sense. 

Barry noticed that Superman’s eyes were open and there was a funny smile on his face. The Man of Steel was openly staring at Batman. Flash didn’t recognise the expression. 

Flash returned his focus to Batman. He was hunched forward and his cape obscured most of the Speedster’s view. There was no denying that the pools around Batman’s ankles were getting alarmingly large. Just as the third piece of Kryptonite was pulled from the opening, Batman passed out. 

Flash caught the black clad vigilante before he could fall forward. 

There was a blur of movement, almost as fast as his own, as Superman’s hand moved. Something was caught from mid air but Flash’s focus was only on Batman. 

It proved to be enough of a distraction that Barry didn’t notice when he dropped the red speck Batman had given him. Nor did he pay it any mind when Superman caught the tiny shard before it hit the ground. 

“Some help here?” he called. 

Diana joined him and helped to lift Batman away from Superman. She had no problem lifting the heavy, unconscious, man. 

Superman was attempting to get up, so Barry turned to help him. He trusted that Diana would look after their friend. 

Seeing the expression on the Kryptonian face was a shock. Superman looked agitated, red eyes glowed but did not fire. 

“Hands above the waist,” Superman growled at a subsonic frequency.

Barry’s mouth hung open. He had to have misheard that, right?

“Sorry,” Clark muttered when he noticed Flash’s expression. “I can still feel the effects of the Kryptonite.”

Barry noted how the eyebrows were scrunched together in confusion.

“I’ll be fine in a few minutes, Flash,” Clark said with a tight smile. “Would you keep an eye on B for me?”

Barry nodded and zipped after Diana.

*~*~*~*~*

Once Flash had gone after Diana, Clark stared down at the two small glowing objects in his palm. A smile started to cross his face when he felt a hand suddenly clasp his shoulder. He closed his fist quickly, and moved it away behind his back. Clark looked over at Shayera’s concerned face and schooled his features quickly.

“Hey, are you ok?” she asked softly.

“Yeah, I think I’m good. Thanks,” Clark replied, rubbing the back of his neck. 

Shayera nodded. 

“We’re meeting up at the WatchTower. Batman will obviously be strapped down in medbay. You don’t have to face him alone.”

When she got no response from Superman, just a blank stare, she threw her hands up exasperatedly. 

“For not staying at the Fortress, like he told you to?”

“Right.” 

Clark looked away before he could openly laugh at Shayera’s expression. It was right there, under the breastbone, the bubble of air that wanted to escape as a giggle. It tickled alongside that persistent pulling. He knew what it was now. Bruce would  _ have _ to come to him. An idea formed in his mind but he kept all sign of it from his face. 

“I’d like to head back there actually. The tests weren’t complete before the meeting and I want to have the results before I face the injured Bat,” Clark said calmly.

Shayera grinned at her friend. She didn’t blame him for wanting to avoid Batman. Being around that man when he was injured was awful. He was the worst patient, never staying still, never getting enough rest. She was a little glad she wasn’t nurse for ol’ grumpy ass.

Part of Clark wanted to growl at Shayera for disparaging Bruce. The other part wanted to rush to Bruce’s side and take him away from here. 

An idea tickled the back of his mind. He made a show of stretching out and showing the gathered people that he was alright. He would need a way to get Jor-El to assist, without knowing why. Clark’s thoughts swirled around, but he needed more information first. 

As he departed, the crowd cheered. The Man of Steel hovered above the ground and struck one of his signature poses, with his fists at his hips, before he slowly flew out of the area. Helicopters still circled, and ambulances treated the injured. 

*~*~*~*~*

Dinah and Oliver were mostly intact, just a few nicks and scrapes. A bandage was wound tightly around Batman by Dinah. Oliver and Diana were helping to manoeuvre the unconscious form. All three were struck by memories from the top of a Gotham roof. Dinah looked to Oliver and spoke a single word softly.

“Alfred,” she whispered.

“I know, I’ll call when we get him back on the WatchTower. You’ll need help to keep him in a bed after he regains consciousness,” Oliver winked to reassure Dinah.

Diana just stared at the beaten body. This man always gave so much of himself. She wanted to clench her fists and scream at the injustice of it all, but she didn’t. She held herself to one side as the many bandages started to change to that awful red. She’d seen many battles in her lifetime, but the results of them always shook her to her core. 

“He’ll be ok.” A voice from her left startled her. 

Green Lantern had joined the small gathering. 

Flash was leaning against the side of the ambulance when his head whipped towards his teammate.

“How do you know that, Lantern?” The Speedster hissed. “There’s so much blood everywhere.”

Diana walked over and embraced Barry. A quiet sob escaped the man before he sniffled. 

“Darn it,” he said in a gruff voice. “I hate it when the cowl gets wet on the inside.” 

“Prepare for transport,” a deep voice echoed in the comms.

Hal created a construct to lift their injured member off the gurney, away from the ambulance, and the heroes all gathered around. Shayera and Cyborg had joined the group in time to be transported. There was a flash of bright light and they were gone.

*~*~*~*~*

As the League headed back to the WatchTower, the gathered people dispersed and the ambulances pulled away. 

Last to leave amongst the crowd was a baseball cap wearing man. His hoodie covered a leather jacket and was zipped up to the neck. 

It was a shame he had to ditch the gun, he thought to himself as he walked away from the White House fenceline. There wasn’t much fence left anymore. 

He walked at a casual pace in the direction of a predetermined safe house. He waited some distance before he checked his bank account on his phone. The balance had been substantially increased. 

He exited the screen and put his hands deep into the pockets of the hoodie. Floyd whistled as he made he way out of the city.


	37. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *~*~*~*~*  
> Summary:
> 
> The extent of the Bat’s injuries comes to light.  
> Very drastic measures are required. 
> 
> Superman is thinking and acting very sketchy.  
> Plans are made.  
> Changes have begun.
> 
> Alfred makes a judgement call that could have far reaching consequences.
> 
> The League tries to deal with the wounded Bat. 
> 
> Decisions are hastily made. 
> 
> Will there be repercussions?
> 
> Trusts are breached. 
> 
> Arguments ensue.
> 
> Nothing is ever just black and white.
> 
> When will our boys catch a break?
> 
> *~*~*~*~*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay on this chapter.  
> I’ve been pretty sick since I returned home, and have struggled with writer’s block.
> 
> Thanks to those that listened to me complain about it XD
> 
> Things should start to happen faster now, but I’m not making any promises. 
> 
> I really wanted to post this yesterday because it was my Birthday, and I wanted to share this with you all.  
> So, again, I apologise for the delay.
> 
>  
> 
> And as always, enjoy!!!
> 
> *~*~*~*~*

*~*~*~*~*

The Members of the Justice League arrived at the WatchTower very subdued. Green Lantern immediately directed the construct containing Batman to the MedBay, mumbling something that sounded a lot like worry under his breath. Hal almost ran the whole way. The glowing green light was followed rapidly by the majority of the others as they met up with J’onn.

Flash zoomed ahead of the group, went straight by J’onn, and into the MedBay itself. The young forensic scientist gathered medical supplies. Although the man hesitated in front of the blood bank aboard the tower, remembering vividly the pools that had formed beneath Batman, he had everything necessary in place by the time Hal arrived.

The power of the ring gently deposited the injured Bat onto the MedBay’s most advanced treatment bed. As the construct faded, a soft splash could be heard. Blood Batman had continued to lose, around the hastily applied bandages at the scene, had gathered at the bottom of the green shield during the short journey to the WatchTower and was released suddenly, spilling across the floor.

The pilot grimaced before creating a vacuum cleaner style unit to remove the slip hazard. And to remove the sight of their friend’s life fluids before it could cause more upset. As Hal went to deposit the blood into hazardous waste, Flash directed the construct containing the blood to a machine that would recycle it and allow them to use it to help Batman.  

J’onn detected the varying degrees of emotion emanating from his coworkers. 

Shayera had gone to take over his Monitor Duty while he dealt with the injured. She had never enjoyed being in the MedBay.

Flash was focussed on the needs of Batman. Avoidance was the best chance at not feeling overwhelmed by panic.

Green Lantern had moved into the adjoining hallway and continued to monitor progress via the ring. The man was very worried for ‘Spooky’. 

Dinah was limping a little, but waved away any assistance, insisting that Bruce’s injuries were more important. The obvious concern was clearly visible to all. 

Diana took the Black Canary’s arm gently and headed into the next MedBay to treat the less severe wounds. The Princess of Themyscira also radiated worry for the man on the bed.

Oliver nodded solemnly at the group and left to make a call to Gotham. Frustration poured from the man’s mind.

Cyborg had hurriedly joined Flash, ready to assist. The technopath had pushed his feelings aside in favour of finding ways to help his teammate.

The only one with major trauma was the Batman. J’onn could sense distress, pain and something more. The Last Martian had to put that aside to work on the physical issues black clad vigilante was facing.

J’onn grimaced as the MedBay scanned and listed the Dark Knight’s injuries. This was most serious. 

As Barry and Victor began to remove the outer armour, the extent of the damage became more and more visually apparent. The obvious bullet wounds aside, there was an assortment of internal injuries, fractured bones and bruising that covered almost the entire scarred surface once they removed what they could of the suit. There was an override code for the cowl and utility belt on the MedBay’s system, a contingency put in place for just such an emergency.

Barry blanched and nearly had to run from the room to hurl several times. 

Victor wore a tight, pinched expression as he stoically removed the last of Batman’s uniform. 

J’onn looked down at the battered body of Bruce Wayne before he began hastily inserting IV’s into both arms. The bullet wounds were the most concerning, as was the loss of blood. He wasn’t skilled enough as a surgeon to deal with this kind of trauma. These injuries would need more than Earth based medical aid. 

A sudden alarm sounded, breaking the concentration of those assembled. 

Batman had flatlined.

Cyborg reached his hand over Batman’s chest and let out an electrical discharge. Flash retrieved the air bag and started pumping air into non responsive lungs. The heart monitor beeped once and returned to flat line. Cyborg gave a warning to Flash before discharging electricity again, and the loud constant beeping was gone. It was replaced by a very weak signal. J’onn had remained on hand to intubate if necessary.

The rush and clatter of equipment could be heard outside the room. J’onn, Cyborg and Flash all worked together. An oxygen mask was lowered over the barely breathing patient. Cyborg and Flash spared a glance at each other, and at Cyborg’s nod, Flash resumed his work on his side of the bed.

There were voices outside the MedBay, clearly heard from within. Hal was reassuring the other Leaguers that Batman’s heart was beating. The pilot had been prepared to rush into the room if necessary, ready to create whatever construct was needed.

J’onn pushed away the concern that swirled in his mind from the group. Pressure applied to the wounds had lessened the bleeding, but they hadn’t been able to do more than that yet. Batman required surgery, but J’onn was out of his depth. The damage was more substantial and tissue was completely gone, blown out by the bullets. 

An idea sparked to life behind his deep red eyes. Something Batman had been researching, with his assistance, for several years now. There was a supply on the WatchTower thanks to Arthur’s help. Both J’onn and Bruce had also utilised the Kryptonian technology and processing power contained within Superman’s Fortress of Solitude to assist with the experiments.

It could work.

J’onn looked to the two men helping him and asked them to keep the pressure on the worst of the wounds while he made a request for assistance. He left hurriedly to make a call. 

*~*~*~*~*

As Clark headed back to the Fortress, he could feel a warmth emanating from the small shards in his hand. He wanted to go to Bruce, his Bruce. He didn’t like the way Diana had been holding his Bat. He gritted his teeth at the thoughts that swirled inside him. 

‘Bruce is mine. MINE!’ he mentally shouted. 

There was a moment of doubt as he remembered how injured the man was. He silently cursed the Dark Knight for ordering him to stay at the Fortress when the results were so destructive. 

Clark needed a way to protect Bruce, even if the surly Bat didn’t like it.  

The ideas that had started forming back at ground zero rose up once more. He would need the help of Jor-El and the Fortress, but determined that he should find a way to keep his ulterior motive hidden. 

The symptoms of the recently discovered ‘attachment’ was once again flaring up, it started creeping up as a tightness behind his eyes and in his abdomen. Clark pushed the annoying symptoms away much more easily this time. 

Looking at the red glowing pieces in his palm, he knew they must be helping with the dissociation he felt and the wretchedness he’d been dealing with. Not being overwhelmed by the negative withdrawal symptoms allowed him to keep planning. He absolutely must keep the shards, but only if Jor-El didn’t find out about them. It would be difficult to trick the AI of his dead father, but not impossible. Jor-El had to help him without knowing about the unusual shrapnel that had been lodged in his body. 

Thoughts, scenarios and ideas all flitted through his mind at light speed. To outwit both the Bat and Jor-El, a clever solution was required. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as inspiration struck. Yes! It was perfect. He continued his journey towards the Fortress, as he refined his plan in his head.

*~*~*~*~*

Alfred was seated in front of the huge computer array in the Cave. Oliver Queen had called to inform him of Batman’s status. The man seemed to hesitate when talking about the injuries Batman sustained during the battle, but Alfred had followed the fight via the information feed on the cowl. He’d sat and stoically watched the entire thing.

Oliver was interrupted by the appearance of J’onn Jones at his side. Alfred looked at the face of the Martian but could see no sign to give away the condition of his ward.

“How is he?” Alfred asked quietly.

“I don’t have good news for you, unfortunately,” the deep voice replied.

Alfred took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for the worst. His mind briefly went back to the conversation in the kitchen, it seemed so long ago. The words echoed in his mind.

“You will outlive the Batman,” Master Bruce had said.

A lump formed in his throat and his face became hot. Out of sight, his hands clenched into helpless fists against the top of his legs. 

“Mister Pennyworth,” J’onn’s voice cut through Alfred’s internal struggle.

Taking another breath, he faced the screen and nodded in acknowledgement.

“What do you need?” Alfred asked.

“There may be a way,” J’onn replied carefully. Red unblinking eyes stared out of the monitor before launching into his idea.

Next to J’onn, Ollie nearly choked as he heard what J’onn had in mind. They couldn’t be serious! He knew Batman was seriously injured, but this idea was too much. 

“You can’t,” Oliver said, interrupting J’onn.

On the screen, Alfred nodded.

“I concur with Mister Queen in this instance,” the Englishman stated firmly.

“I understand your concerns,” J’onn could feel the Arrow’s reluctance and imagined Bruce’s father figure felt the same. 

“This would be the most unforgivable breach of trust, Mister Jones. The stubborn man would rather die than take the steps you are suggesting. I can’t say I disagree with the sentiment.” Alfred’s voice was implacable.

“And what about the fact, Mister Pennyworth?” J’onn’s voice had hardened to an almost cruel tone.

Oliver inhaled sharply, loudly enough to be heard through the monitor but Alfred gave no outward indications of shock. 

“What are you trying to say?” Alfred asked cautiously.

“I will be blunt, Mister Pennyworth. These wounds are severe enough to kill your son. His heart has already stopped once. Even if he survives the initial trauma, he will be permanently disabled. The damage is beyond my skills, or our technology, to repair. His Mission would be over. You will lose him.” J’onn tried to remain firm in his conviction. This was the only way.

Alfred visibly paled, his shoulders slumped and his head dropped to his chest. He could feel the tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. ‘Bruce’ he thought to himself, ‘what do I do?’

“I have participated in the research Batman has done on this subject, with the help of Superman’s Fortress. I believe that a diluted formula is the only way we can save his life, and prevent the end of the Batman for Gotham. It is the only way to save your son.” J’onn felt the distress from Oliver strongly. He could only guess what it was like for Mister Pennyworth.

“This is madness,” Oliver gasped. “He’ll kill you for this, J’onn. And he’ll never forgive you Alfred. You can’t.”

“It is a burden we must be willing to bear if we are to save his life,” J’onn said quietly.

Both men looked at the figure on the screen, waiting for the response. Ultimately, with Bruce unconscious, it was Alfred’s decision.

Alfred straightened his shoulders and resolution shone clearly in his eyes.

“Do it,” Alfred stated firmly. “And may God have mercy on us all.”

*~*~*~*~*

Shayera was on the opposite side of the Monitor Room. She wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but couldn’t help but overhear parts of the conversation. She gasped quietly and put her hand over her mouth when she heard about the extent of Batman’s injuries.

Quietly, she put in a call to Superman at the Fortress of Solitude.

*~*~*~*~*

“My son,” Jor-El said as Superman entered the Fortress.

Clark held the shards of Kryptonite hidden out of sight. He frowned at Jor-El and remained quiet for a few moments. With a breathy exhale, he explained that he was worried about Bruce. 

Before Jor-El could ask about his own wounds, Clark launched into a description of the injuries he had managed to see. Admittedly, he had been a little distracted. He hadn’t been able to get the full picture before Batman had collapsed and been whisked away. He did remember the gunshot wounds, rib damage, internal injuries, two broken fingers, severe concussion, lacerations and bruising through the Suit, and the loss of blood.

Clark focused on all the blood suddenly. There had been pools of it on the ground. Looking down at his uniform, he could see the patches where it had dried during his return flight. There was his own across the shield, but there was much more that wasn’t.

It had been a brutal fight and Bruce had clearly suffered for it. Clark expressed his worry.

“And yet, he saved my life,” Clark whispered at the end.

“Why not utilise the Genesis Chamber?” Jor-El offered. 

“How?” Clark asked, putting just a thread of hopefulness into his voice. This was exactly how he’d hoped this conversation would go.

“He can’t be put in directly, it would be too much for the human to be subjected to Kryptonian procedures. We could modify the formula, ensure that it wouldn’t cause physical or mental stress. It would be a slower procedure but it would be effective.” Jor-El replied thoughtfully.

The conversation was interrupted by a call from the WatchTower. Superman grit his teeth at the disruption to his carefully laid out conversation with Jor-El. He moved over to the Fortress’ Communication Station to accept the call. 

“Superman,” Shayera sounded a bit breathless. 

“Shayera, I don’t have the results for Batman yet,” Clark began. What he really wanted to do was yell at the Thanagarian, but he reigned in his temper.

“That’s... That’s not what I’m calling about. I have news for you.” Shayera was almost whispering.

“What is it, Shayera?” Clark frowned. There weren’t many reasons for a call so soon after the last battle. Batman would still be receiving treatment.

“Is this about Batman?” the blue clad hero asked quickly.

On the screen, Shayera nodded.

“I just heard J’onn discussing it with Alfred, the injuries are worse than first thought. Kal, he could die! And even if he doesn’t, he’ll be… be disabled. His heart stopped once already,” a choked sob escaped the winged woman.

Clark’s eyes widened. All his plans and thoughts seemed to evaporate from his mind suddenly. He couldn’t form words as he finally focussed on the incomplete bond that he had been ignoring since during return flight to the Fortress. 

A burst of pain gripped his head, and his gut felt like agony. There was a twisting, churning deep within that was shocking in it’s intensity. A spasm wrenched at him and his head felt like it was going to explode.

How had he managed to miss this? He nearly dropped the small cargo from his hand as he doubled over, retching and coughing up bile from his throat.

Jor-El had remained by Kal-El’s side for the duration of the conversation. It was unusual that the symptoms had appeared suddenly. There was no doubt, however, that his son was suffering. Jor-El needed a way to help the Last Son of Krypton. Assisting with the treatment and healing of Batman would also afford him the opportunity to monitor both Kal and Bruce. He could run some tests. 

“Prepare what you need. I’m going to the WatchTower,” Kal told Jor-El harshly. Jor-El nodded and disappeared, his full processing power would be needed to calculate the changes to the Genesis Chamber system. 

Clark motioned to Shayera for her to prepare for his imminent arrival and closed the comm channel. However, he would need to leave the items in his hand behind. He glanced around quickly, his eyes coming to rest on Kelex. Clark staggered unsteadily over to the Monitor Servant. Kelex was the most independent of the Fortress’ automatons, and constantly ready to respond to Kal’s needs.

“You will guard these items,” he said, thinking quickly. “Do not let them be scanned or removed from your care. You are not share any information. Not Jor-El, and not the Fortress. Keep the knowledge of these items separate from all systems. And most of all, do not let any other being see them,” he ordered through gritted teeth. 

Clark left the pieces with Kelex and the full effect of the joining nearly crippled him instantly.  Forcing himself to breathe steadily, he directed all his attention on getting to Bruce and immediately left for the WatchTower.

*~*~*~*~*

J’onn returned to the MedBay quickly. There was precious little time to spare. Oliver couldn’t float through floors and walls, and needed to go the long way around.

Arriving at the doors, Oliver rushed past everyone else and burst in. 

“J’onn, you can’t do this,” the voice all but pleading the Martian to listen.

J’onn turned towards Oliver as Dinah and Diana entered the room.

“What’s going on Ollie?” Dinah asked.

Oliver crossed his arms and looked at J’onn. The Martian could feel the rage building inside the Archer.

“Why don’t you tell them, J’onn?” Oliver asked with a scowl.

“We don’t have time to argue. Batman’s life is at stake,” J’onn had to work to maintain a careful tone.

The two women looked shocked, and directed their gaze towards the other side of the large room where Batman was being treated.

Barry and Victor looked at each other briefly before returning to their tasks.

“Can you save him?” Diana asked.

“I am going to try,” J’onn replied.

“He won’t thank you for this,” Oliver added archly.

“Oliver, what are you talking about?” Dinah queried.

J’onn kept working steadily, despite the conversation going on around him. He was confident that this solution would work. Naturally, everything would be monitored carefully. Flipping the controls for the immersion tank resulted in a low hum as the WatchTower slid away a recessed panel. An empty tank emerged on a track and set into a secure footing. J’onn proceeded to hook up pipes, drains and monitoring equipment.

“Aren’t you going to tell them?” Oliver questioned.

“Oliver, I understand your reluctance but, I have no time for this,” J’onn asserted steadily. “Batman’s heart stopped beating once. Cyborg and Flash are working to keep him alive.”

As J’onn powered up the control console for the Immersion Tank, Oliver moved to grab his arm. Diana placed herself between Arrow and the Martian, because no matter what it was, Bruce had to be saved.

“Oliver, stand down,” Diana hissed at Ollie.

The glare Oliver levelled at Diana was impressive. Even Dinah flinched. 

“You have no idea,” Oliver said.

“Do you want Bruce to die?” Diana crossed her arms as she asked the question. 

J’onn had finished the start up procedure, and the tank began to fill with a clear liquid. He mentally thanked Diana for acting as a shield. Diana implored him, in a silent reply, to save Bruce. He nodded solemnly and left the room by going intangible, and dropping through the floor.

Dinah was holding Oliver back as the man shouted at Diana. The Princess of Themyscira merely lifted her eyebrow as Ollie became red faced with frustration.

“Bruce would rather die than go through this!” Oliver snapped.

Dinah moved into her boyfriend’s field of vision.

“What did Alfred say?” Dinah’s question was softly spoken.

Oliver looked away, his neck taut with tension.

“Al authorised it,” but Oliver brought his gaze back to Dinah’s for his next words. “It’s a mistake, Dinah. I know Alfred doesn’t want to lose him, none of us do!”

“If Alfred authorised it, then there’s nothing more you can do, Oliver,” Diana said sternly.

“But it’s wrong!! Batman has already researched this. The last man to use it went insane. How will you feel if you save his life, only to have him change?” Oliver pointed a finger at the figure lying on the bed.

“Oliver, tell us what J’onn is planning. We still don’t know what it is that has you so upset.” Dinah pressed forward as she spoke. “You need to tell us.”

As Dinah spoke, J’onn returned to the MedBay the same way he had left. A large vacuum sealed container was in the Martian’s possession. There was a window down the side of the container and the green contents could clearly be seen within.

“That,” Oliver ground out.

Both Diana and Dinah watched as J’onn floated towards the top of the Immersion Tank. Dinah’s eyes widened and her hands flew to her mouth in surprise.

“What is it?” Diana asked, not recognising the sickly green liquid for what it was. It bore a striking familiarity with Kryptonite. They’d already dealt with one incident of the mineral in the course of the fight with Luthor.

“It is not Kryptonite,” J’onn advised.

Diana had a moment of embarrassment, realizing that she must have thought loud enough for J’onn to detect.

“No,” Dinah squealed. She rushed to move around Diana, but was stopped by the Amazonian.

“Oliver’s right. You can’t do this,” Dinah called to J’onn. “I can’t believe Alfred would agree to this!”

J’onn wasn’t listening. He was opening the seal and adding the contents to the Tank. As the substance was added to the fluid, the Tank was filled with an eerie pale green colour. The liquids mixed and swirled together.

“What is it?” Diana asked again. Why was no one answering the question?

“That is the waters of the Lazarus Pit,” Oliver answered.  

*~*~*~*~*


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *~*~*~*~*
> 
> Batman is subjected to one of his greatest fears. 
> 
> Superman is away from the influence of the strange, red glowing shards. 
> 
> A chance is taken, for better or for worse.  
> Things get out of control - don’t they always?  
> More plans are hatched.  
> *~*~*~*~*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *~*~*~*~*
> 
> More apologies for the delays.  
> Have a longer chapter to make it up to you all.
> 
> I've been quite sick and am now on antibiotics - which is wreaking havoc with my system.  
> So I hope the story doesn't jump around too much.
> 
> On a positive note, I've already begun chapter 39.
> 
>  
> 
> Many thanks to Lopithecus for looking over this for me.  
> ❤
> 
> As always, enjoy!
> 
> *~*~*~*~*

*~*~*~*~*

“What?” Diana was shocked.  
Turning to J’onn for an explanation, she saw her friend had prepared an air mask attached to a long hose that went through the lid of the Immersion Tank.

The Bacta* Tank, or Immersion Tank as it was commonly known, was completely clear, round like a tube that rose from the floor.

All the commotion had brought the rest of the group’s attention to the dispute in the MedBay.  
When Oliver spoke the name of the substance, the room had descended into silence, only broken by the advanced machines monitoring Batman’s condition.

As if to punctuate the necessity of the decision that had been made, Batman flatlined again. This time it was Flash who restored the weak heartbeat utilising the MedBay equipment. A collective exhale brought a small measure of relief to the Justice League members, but they weren’t out of the woods yet.

Diana stepped over to the bed where Bruce was hanging on to life by a tenuous thread. Keeping herself clear of Barry and Victor, who worked tirelessly to staunch the bleeding, she stood near Bruce’s uncowled head. She reached tentative fingers over to brush the messy strands of hair away from the pale, hollow face.  
Looking down on the battered body, she realised that this was the the Batman, Bruce, laid bare before her. The scarring underneath the livid bruising shocked her deeply.  
Diana could see in her peripheral vision the efforts Flash and Cyborg, as they continued emergency treatment.  
The breath in the oxygen mask was weak. Her eyes widened as a bubble of blood escaped from between not quite blue lips.

“There’s…. Something is wrong!” Diana stammered.

Victor and Barry looked at what had caught Diana’s attention, and knowingly glanced at each other just as J’onn flew over to join them.

“Diana,” the Martian Manhunter said quietly. “He needs this treatment. His lungs are damaged, and filling with blood. There are other injuries just as serious. If we do not move quickly, he will die.”

J'onn telepathically called to Hal Jordan. A ring construct would be the easiest way to get Batman into the tank.

This time it was Dinah who came and led the Amazonian Princess away. They had managed only a few steps when a new voice spoke up.

“No, you can’t let him die!”

As one, the assembled heroes turned to see Superman lurch through the doorway.

The Man of Steel was a mess, still wearing the uniform stained with blood, and panting heavily. He swayed slightly on his feet and had to grab the doorway for support. Without the red chips in his hand, he was at the mercy of feeling all that Batman felt. The pain of the ‘joining’ nearly overwhelmed the blue clad hero as he staggered over to the bed where Bruce was rapidly disappearing under gauze and IV tubing.

The assembled group watched in fascination as Clark moved to cup Bruce’s jaw.

Diana tensed up, as if to take a step forward. Dinah gripped at Diana’s arm, and the events of the Gala came crashing down upon both of the women. Diana slumped ever so slightly but couldn’t take her eyes off the scene.

Cyborg and Flash stopped their ministrations to stare openly.

Superman didn’t notice, tears were tracing a path down his normally smiling face. Clark leaned forward and lifted the oxygen mask away, rubbed his thumb gently over the red stained lips, before kissing Bruce chastely. It was enough to settle some of the starvation symptoms he felt, but not enough to mask the hurt that reverberated inside. Gently the mask was lowered back into position.

Turning back to the shocked spectators, Clark locked eyes with J’onn. Hal stepped forward into the room to comply with J’onn’s request, but J’onn held up a hand. The connection between the two men was detected by the telepath.

“Superman, can you help move him to the tank?” The serious voice queried.

Clark nodded, and moved to lift Bruce from the table.

“Wait!” Flash stood for a second with his hands up in a time out gesture.

A crackle of lightning flickered and all the gauze pads and bandages, the IV drips and oxygen mask, were removed. All the monitoring equipment electrodes were disconnected, without the alarms going off.

Most of those present couldn’t quite believe what was happening. Some had only heard rumours of the infamous Lazarus Pit, while others had more in depth knowledge. Eyes followed the way Clark gently picked up the patient and carefully floated towards the immersion tank.

“Wait, Clark,” Oliver shouted. “Do you know what’s in there?”

“I don’t care,” Clark snarled back. “I need him.”

Ollie took a step back at the fiery visage on Superman’s face.

Clark cradled the body close as he flew to the top of the wide tube.

J’onn flew up to attach the life support system, when voices started shouting up at the pair.

“Don’t do this, Clark, J’onn, please?” Dinah implored.

“Superman, you could be sentencing him to a fate worse than death.” Diana’s voice held a tinge of panic.

“Stop this Clark, you are his only hope for his sanity,” Oliver shouted.

“The ring says this has the potential to be dangerous,” Hal added his voice to the din.

“This is an untested experiment,” Victor tried to reason, he’d found the research and assimilated it within moments.

“I don’t like this,” Barry whispered.

“ENOUGH,” Kal-El glowered. “I Will Not Lose Him.”

J’onn had finished his final preparations, double checked the attached life support mask, and nodded at Clark to lower Bruce into the tank.

Clark looked at the man he….. Well, he still didn’t know what to make of the knowledge passed to him from the Fortress and Jor-El. He did know that he couldn’t lose Bruce, no matter what.

Bruce was gently lowered into the tank feet first. At first, eddies of crimson tried to mix with the pale green liquid. A pale rusty brown lingered around the form that now floated upright in the tank, but soon dispersed.

As the assembled crowd watched, the gaping holes made by the high powered ammunition started to close over. It felt agonisingly slow, even to non speedsters. It was an eternity to Barry. Tiny bubbles gathered over the various cuts and scrapes. J’onn stood at the monitoring station watching heart rate and respiratory exchange.

The Justice League were in varying degrees of shock. Following on the heels of a tough battle, Batman’s condition, and the use of Lazarus Pit water, had emotions running high. J’onn was about to evacuate the MedBay when Oliver approached once more.

“I hope you know what you’re doing, J’onn,” the blonde man spat.

Clark had moved close to the side of the tank, facing Bruce, his hand splayed against the transparent surface.  
A clear mask covered Bruce’s handsome face, providing life sustaining air.  
The man only wore the pair of compression shorts that had been underneath the BatSuit.  
Clark watched the subconscious rippling of muscle and leaned his head against the cool surface.  
Upon hearing Arrow’s words, he spun around to see the facial expressions of his compatriots.

“If this will save him, then I don’t care,” Clark said clearly.

Superman moved over to J’onn’s side. The Martian looked at him sympathetically but before his attention could return to the screens, Oliver stormed over to them both.

“Do you know what that is?” the red faced Archer asked.

“I said I don’t care, Ollie,” Clark replied, drawing himself up to his full height. His head still pounded and his stomached ached but he refused to let any of it show.

Oliver reiterated what he had said earlier, about how the last man to use this procedure went insane.

Superman lifted an eyebrow and turned a questioning gaze towards J’onn.

“This is the only way,” the green skinned individual allowed a tinge of regret into the words.

Dinah and Diana turned their attention to the conversation.

“This is not _his_ way,” Diana murmured.

“And what would you know of his ways, Diana? Still pining after what you can’t have?” The words snapped from Clark’s mouth.

Diana’s face hardened instantly. She knew the Kryptonian’s words were true, but she was still the Princess of Themyscira.

“You will mind your tone, and choose your next words carefully,” Diana hissed.

Flash chose that moment to appear between the two. Cyborg had just finished sterilising the trauma unit with UV light, even if Barry had done most of the physical cleanup at superspeed.

“C’mon you two?” Barry pleaded. He had pushed his cowl back when he first started emergency treatment on Batman. His young face was haggard and tired. “This isn’t the time or place for fighting.”

Hal abruptly turned towards the door. The power ring he wore indicated the tank contained a very watered down version of the mysterious fluid, and he really didn’t want anyone to start fighting in the middle of the MedBay. He needed to clear the space of extra people. Arguing now that it’s happened is moot.

“I’m going to grab coffee while we wait. I suggest we all get some rest until we see the results of this.” The Green Lantern’s tone sounded reasonable enough but it left no doubt in anyone’s mind that he expected to be listened to.

Somewhat reluctantly, Diana, Dinah, Barry and Victor acquiesced.

*~*~*~*~*

The only remaining people in the Medical Facility were Oliver, J’onn, Clark and Bruce.

Oliver didn’t waste a second, and continued to agitate the two others. As the three began to argue, no one watched the monitors or the tank.

Batman’s hands began to twitch, and his breathing hitched inside the mask. The bubbles around the open wounds began to draw the green waters of the Lazarus Pit into a concentrated layer over the injured body, separating itself from the clear fluid within the tank. The bubbles began to foam slowly at first, but within seconds, aggressively invaded the open wounds. As it entered the bloodstream, and Bruce’s heart began to beat faster, it was pumped to every corner of the broken body.

The three arguing in the MedBay didn’t notice the changes.

Superman was still dealing with the withdrawal symptoms, although they had alleviated slightly with his proximity to Bruce. Without the red shrapnel, he couldn’t block from feeling everything through their ‘connection’ but at this moment he was beyond overwhelmed by the underlying pain of the broken man.

Oliver and J’onn were in heated discussion, with Oliver’s voice raised more than once. J’onn kept flinching as the emotional turmoil lashed against the telepath. What the Martian really wanted to do was investigate this bond between Kal-El and Bruce, but Oliver was persistent.

Bruce’s brow furrowed and his body began to shake. His head moved from side to side and his heart rate continued to increase. One of his hands made the exhausting journey up to his face but met an obstacle. Without realising what was going on, he pushed. The mask was dislodged and green liquid filled his nose, mouth and lungs.

Bruce started to thrash against the drowning sensation. Both palms pressed against the smooth surface of the immersion tank. Legs started to kick out as damaged lungs were overwhelmed. Oxygen deprivation kicked his body into fight or flight, even if he wasn’t fully conscious.

A light flashed on the screens. J’onn saw it peripherally at the same time Clark turned to the tank. Oliver barely had time to blink before Superman was punching into the clear wall of the large tube.

The transparent surface of the Bacta Tank shattered like glass, pieces bouncing across the floor. Liquid surged from behind as a small wave drenched everything.

Clark scooped Bruce up in his arms and sped him over to the table. Oliver was only seconds behind and began chest compressions. At Clark’s nod, Oliver ceased and Clark began mouth to mouth. J’onn came over and reattached the heart rate monitor.

A weak heartbeat was detected, but Batman still wasn’t breathing.

Oliver and Clark continued CPR.

A lurching cough from Bruce spat out the green tinted water, and he inhaled deeply. He seemed to hold his breath for several long moments until he let out a low deep hiss of fury and pain. Without warning, Bruce collapsed back into an unconscious state.

J’onn returned the oxygen mask to the Gothamite’s face as Oliver stepped back. Clark looked very worriedly at the unconscious man.

“You see? I told you,” Oliver gritted out.

“We don’t know anything yet, Oliver,” Clark answered.

Superman had been scanning Bruce since he smashed the tank, hoping against hope that Bruce would stay alive. Stay with him. The strong heartbeat, and condensation fogging the oxygen mask as Bruce breathed on his own, reassured him. The withdrawal symptoms had settled to varying degrees. Sometimes it was debilitating and nausea inducing, other times it almost content just being in the same room. It confused the Kryptonian when he needed to think.

J’onn pressed his fingers to the damp forehead and concentrated. The scrambled broadcast from Batman’s mind had him concerned, although he didn’t allow it to show on his face.

“How is he?” Oliver asked quietly. Overriding worry had reduced the archer’s anger to simmering background noise.

J’onn initiated another scan by the MedBay’s system and was amazed at the difference displayed between before and after the Bacta Tank treatment.

The bullet wounds had closed without a single scar, the lacerations were gone, the bruising non existent. All the internal injuries were also healed. Even some of Batman’s older wounds and scars had diminished to nothing. Previous bone breaks were once more whole.

“It worked,” J’onn stated.

“But what about…?” Oliver tapped at his own temple for emphasis.

“There is some confusion, but I can detect nothing detrimental,” J’onn replied calmly.

“Confusion?” Clark stood up from where he had been bent over the prone form, his fingers continued to brush lightly in the dark wet hair.

Oliver crossed his arms and waited to hear what J’onn would say.

“Even Batman will suffer the psychological effects of his heart stopping twice and a near drowning,” J’onn almost whispered. “ _Other recent events_ have also taken a toll on his psyche, before he was fatally wounded.”

J’onn focussed on Kal at these last words. A torrent of emotions burst from the Man of Steel. Another flash of insight about what joined these two men, flared brightly in his mind. J’onn’s old memories of his Martian Bonds surfaced briefly and he felt the pang of loss.

“But you can’t be sure this didn’t do more harm than good, can you, J’onn?” Oliver said through clenched teeth.

“Look at him, Oliver,” J’onn whirled towards the Archer, still processing the ramifications of the revelation from Kal-El. “The damage to his body was too extensive. There’s no way I could have saved him otherwise. Check the scans for yourself.”

Oliver deflated with a large exhaled breath. Clark could see the worry etched on the Ollie’s face. J’onn returned to contemplating the readouts that displayed Batman’s current status.

“I guess what’s done is done,” Ollie said quietly. “Now all that remains to be seen is if he will be himself when he wakes.”

Oliver took his leave, suddenly exhausted. There had been too much fighting in such a short space of time. He’d done the best under the circumstances.

“J’onn,” Clark whispered. “Is there a chance that he’ll be…. Different?”

“I believed the diluted solution would protect Batman from that side effect. I will have to go over the readings and surveillance footage to see what went wrong. I’ll also run tests. Rest assured, Kal-El, I will investigate every possibility to ensure Batman returns to us whole,” J’onn spoke with conviction.

Clark looked back at the man lying on the MedBay treatment bed. His hands had not stopped touching the dark wet locks. He could see the green tinged water dripping onto the floor. Biting his bottom lip, he pondered what would happen now.

*~*~*~*~*

Bruce could hear low voices, but was unable to move. There was a creeping sense of wrongness fluttering around his subconscious. By instinct, he began to put up the mental shielding that J’onn had taught him but the blocks came tumbling down as fast as he could form them in his mind. It was as if the blocks lacked cohesion. Images flashed that were blinding in their intensity, and a coldness swept through his mind as he felt a predator stalking him. He was being overwhelmed by movement and colour, strobes of bright light. One flashed blue/white like a long ribbon, shattering the chaotic colour, and he experienced a moment of respite.

It didn’t last. Emotions stirred from deep within. Monsters started to stalk him behind his eyes. The biggest monster of all was the Bat, and Bruce could barely register that Batman was killing without mercy. His entire rogues gallery destroyed at black gauntleted hands. He was becoming confused as memories folded in on themselves before being replaced with more gruesome scenes.

Bruce wasted no time in retreating behind his most heavily fortified mental defences. He had enough experience with being mind fucked previously that he was able to make it to his core centre.  
Barely.  
He’d had to claw his way through a maze of ghosts from his past.

What he was about to do was only meant as a last resort.  
He was effectively locking his consciousness away.

At the sudden reappearance of the long bolt of blue/white light, he mustered a last desperate lunge towards his goal. The momentary stillness gave him the opportunity he needed. Bruce slammed down the barrier and isolated himself away inside his own mind.

*~*~*~*~*

Superman had gone to his quarters aboard the WatchTower to clean up and change his uniform. Three steps from the panel that opened the door, he dropped to his knees and gasped for breath. The effects of the ‘joining’ indicated there was a change in Bruce.

The white hot pain that drove into his stomach came close to knocking Clark out. The throbbing behind his eyes dropped in frequency but not intensity.

Clark knew he had to get to Bruce, just as soon as he could scrape himself from the floor.

Unfortunately, Clark blacked out due to the pain and an undefinable change in his connection to Bruce.

*~*~*~*~*

Oliver left the MedBay, but stopped walking as soon as the door slid shut. Chairs were scattered where the other Leaguers had waited and, truthfully, he just wanted to collapse into one. Turning his head, he could just make out Bruce’s form through the small window.

The ramifications of what he had just allowed to happen, to Bruce, hit him like a sucker punch. All the air in his lungs burst out and his legs refused to hold him up. Managing to fall back onto a chair, Oliver began to sob quietly.

He felt like he’d let Bruce down, failed him, and betrayed him.

He’d known Bruce for so many years. They’d first met in school, only a few years separated them. Never really friends but somehow their lives paralleled and crossed in different points in time.

It seemed so long ago that they were just kids.

After Ollie returned to Star City, he rejoined the life of a very wealthy man. As he used public appearances and supported good causes to distract from his night time vigilante activities, Bruce was different around him. The Gothamite rarely missed a worthwhile charity event, and seemed to stick to his own city. But Brucie Wayne started showing up at the same galas with regularity.

The important part was how they both recognised the signs of deception.

Naturally, Bruce figured out Ollie was Arrow long before the reverse was true. Bruce had genuinely enjoyed flustering Oliver at every opportunity, as vacuous airhead Brucie.

Ollie genuinely laughed at himself when Batman revealed his identity.

When the pair of them started pulling similar pranks on Clark Kent at various events, using their public personas, that was when Oliver knew without a doubt that there was more behind the masks of Batman and Brucie Wayne. There was humour inside the solitude.

Oliver had endured being on the receiving end of that ‘humour’ more than once, but never more so than when Bruce discovered his interest in Dinah.  
  
They had gone from a familiar face of school days past, sort of skipped the friends part, shared some pretty similar life experiences, to a trusted inner circle that included Alfred. Respected, understood, loyal brothers in arms and the fight for justice.

That’s not to say they didn’t snark, fight and eventually laugh together. They knew the same pains, saw the same haunted look in each other at different times, and fought the demons within, without explaining hard stuff. It made Bruce human, even if the Bat was still one scary BAMF.

There had never been any judgement.

Oliver remembered when he had turned up in the cave one evening, to Bruce being stitched up and his whole demeanour tight with the internal struggle. He helped Alfred with treatment, despite Bruce’s grumblings. Alfred snarked and bantered until his charge agreed to eat some food, with Oliver as politely invited company. As soon as Alfred was out of sight, Bruce started shifting on the cot in an attempt to get up. Oliver helped him up from the cot but only as far as the training mats. Propping Bruce on a bench that backed up to a wall, Ollie moved a few steps back until he was on the cushioned surface.

“What happened?” Oliver had asked.

What followed then was Oliver re-enacting the fight while Bruce narrated and observed. Eventually, the pair ended up meditating before Tai Chi movements allowed Bruce to understand the limitations of his newest stitches.

Eventually, it became a regular habit between them. They would engage in discussion about what different moves, kicks or tools, could have altered the outcome. It helped them both in varying ways.

They would spar and train to offset newly discovered weaknesses (via having their asses handed to them from the latest SuperVillain). Well, more often Ollie than Bruce. Their mutual martial arts meant that Oliver understood when Bruce was teaching, and listened well. They learnt from each other over time.

Other moments, they sat together and planned. Going over visual footage of incidents, putting pieces of intel together. Oliver never failed to be impressed with how many scenarios and contingencies Bruce could come up with. Bruce seemed to appreciate his keen eye for details and there was an underlying sense of competition to see who could put together the pieces first. Bruce may have won the majority, but Oliver was no slouch either.

Neither man liked to be fussed over when they were injured.

The asshole rarely thanked Ollie, although to be fair he never really thanked Bruce with words either.

That thought made the Archer smile.

It was understood between them.

It was the life of a vigilante.

Watching Superman try to befriend Batman made Oliver appreciate the level of trust Bruce had shown him through the years. Recent developments between the World’s Finest didn’t shock Oliver, in fact he supported it.

Oliver hadn’t initially connected that Superman and Clark Kent also had a different side. Small reminders of alien ancestry, the last of the species like J’onn, that made him seem lonely.

It also reminded Oliver of when he first met Bruce.

Rubbing his hands over his face, he took a deep breath and stood up. Bruce wasn’t gone yet, there had to be something they could do.

Oliver headed towards the common room where Hal had taken the others.

*~*~*~*~*

J’onn was temporarily alone in the MedBay with his patient. He had placed another bag on the IV into Bruce’s arm, to keep nutrient and hydration levels up. A tray of tubes rested nearby, ready to take blood for testing. Mentally monitoring his patient, he felt more than a little trepidation at the incoherent leakage seeping from the usually ordered mind. A strong wave of rage erupted that made him step back unexpectedly. When he reached his hand to touch the forehead, there was a yawning emptiness, a dark never ending abyss. An inky blackness swirled where the consciousness of the Bat had been struggling before.

As he withdrew his hand, he noticed Bruce’s eyes moving frantically behind eyelids, as if in REM sleep. But the Martian had not detected any signs of sleep.

The fact that he hadn’t discerned any signs of consciousness from the agile mind of Batman had him extremely anxious. Steeling his resolve, J’onn pushed in once more. This time there was a cacophony of surrounding images that bumped against him. Fights and battles, struggles of training during Bruce’s youth, loneliness and haunting grief. It was this last that left the strongest impression.

Underneath all the chaos, was what appeared as a blue/white light stretching out beyond the physical body. J’onn ignored where it dispersed into the distance, and followed the light deeper into Bruce’s subconscious. Horrors danced on the edge of his perception but he maintained his focus, and was not dragged into the carnage that seemed to be filling all the space at once. Death, destruction, guilt, all seemed to be recurring themes. His mind’s eye caught on an image of Batman killing Bane after the fight in Washington. J’onn knew that the villain was still alive, and Bruce hadn’t killed the man. Batman’s mind was being twisted, showing things to drive the Gothamite away from reality.

Eventually the blue/white light seemed to stop at a central point, attaching itself to an imposing object. It was shaped like a perfect sphere. Bats flew in circles around it, diving at the distorted images that tried to broach the shield. J’onn examined what he could of the surface through the mass of leathery wings and beady eyes. The surface rippled until he found himself staring at a boy with a solemn face. The boy was on his knees, hands covered in blood, while silent tears fell. J’onn reached out telepathically to comfort the boy but was suddenly attacked by the bats. They tore at his skin and tried to gouge out his eyes. A startling scream came from within the sphere that frankly terrified J’onn. Left with no other choice, he backed away the way he had come.

*~*~*~*~*

When the Martian opened his eyes in the MedBay, Shayera was seated nearby and was watching him with a concerned expression. He did not expect to see the winged woman in the MedBay. Normally the Thanagarian avoided the place like the plague.

“Shayera, is everything alright?” J’onn asked gently.

“I should be asking you the same question. You’ve been standing there for nearly an hour, your hand resting on his head.” Shayera motioned towards Batman.

“An hour?” J’onn blinked.

“Is he alright?” Shayera asked softly.

J’onn rubbed at his head in a very human manner. He was beginning to doubt his course of treatment for Batman. Perhaps the others had been right. What he had seen was most unexpected. He had believed that a diluted form of the waters of the Lazarus Pit wouldn’t have adverse effects but after watching the surveillance feed, he had questioned his decision. The way the green liquid had coalesced around Bruce’s body, leaving the surrounding fluid clear once more, had been disturbing. Watching it disappear into the mortally injured body had panicked him more than he was willing to admit.

“J’onn?” Shayera drew J’onn’s attention back to the conversation.

“I honestly don’t know, Shayera,” J’onn stated sadly. “The others, they warned me. However, I knew of no other way to treat the injuries that Batman sustained. I believed it was the right course of action.”

Shayera stood and stepped around the bed and hugged the last Martian. Her wings encircled them. J’onn felt the empathy and compassion deliberately being broadcast by his feathered friend.

After a few moments, Shayera stepped back and reached up to grip both shoulders.

“You did what you thought was best, J’onn. He was dying. As much as I hate to admit it, we need the gloomy Bat. He’s strong, stubborn and won’t give up without a fight. Have faith,” Hawkgirl encouraged.

J’onn took a calming, centering breath, before nodding at his companion.

“I hope you will remember those words when he wakes up. Oliver implied that Batman would kill me for what I’ve done. I may not have many advocates to help plead my case,” J’onn said sadly.

“I, well I may have been watching the camera feed from the MedBay after the call to Gotham. I didn’t deliberately listen to your conversation, and I certainly didn’t hear everything, I only heard about Batman’s condition. And…. well…. I was worried.” Shayera wouldn’t look J’onn in the eye as she spoke.

J’onn raised his equivalent of an eyebrow but said nothing.

“I didn’t like the way everyone was yelling at you. They weren’t listening,” Shayera’s voice took on an angry tone.

“Time was of the essence, I didn’t have time to get into a debate,” J’onn murmured quietly.

“You saved his life,” Shayera emphasised her point by waving towards the patient.

J’onn was silent a for a few moments. Shayera paced agitatedly.

“I don’t know anything about the procedure you performed,” Shayera said, stopping suddenly to look deep into dark red eyes. “But I’m sure it’s not a decision you took lightly, J’onn.

The door to the MedBay slid open unexpectedly.

“Superman,” J’onn greeted the distressed looking Kryptonian.

“Kal?” Shayera took a couple of steps towards her friend but the sight that met her eyes made her hesitate. There was nothing Super about the hero that stood before her. He was pale, dishevelled, and his whole face was pinched tight with stress.

Clark threw a weak smile at Shayera before turning his attention to J’onn.

“I have something I need to speak with you about,” the rumpled Kryptonian’s voice was taut.

“I was at the Fortress before I realised the _severity_ ” Clark’s voice broke, and he needed to swallow past the big lump in his throat, before he could continue.

“There may be a way to purge Bruce of this residue. It’s in his bloodstream.” Clark motioned to the syringes on the nearby tray. “You’ll discover it when you run the bloodwork, but I can see it already. The Genesis Chamber can be modified, and better controlled, to extract it in small increments. It will help Bruce fight any and all effects that may yet be unknown to us,” Clark concentrated, and opened up the bonding that he learnt about at the Fortress as he spoke, letting J’onn ‘see’ the depth of his connection to Bruce.

J’onn recognised a flash of blue white light, a mental manifestation of their connection. It was exactly the same as he had seen from Batman’s mind.

J’onn was stunned as he listened to Kal explain the details.

The Genesis Chamber? This was not something J’onn had considered.

He asked Kal to pause a moment while he withdrew all his telepathic ability into himself, and shut his own mind to all outside influences. Once he felt more centered, he listened carefully to Superman’s idea.

*~*~*~*~*

*Citation: Some of you may have recognised the name I used for the equipment used, in conjunction with the waters of the Lazarus Pit, for healing Batman. The Bacta Tank is in fact, from Star Wars. When Luke is first beaten by Darth Vader, he is floated in a Bacta Tank to help heal him.

With thanks to Spiva for remembering the name for me.

*~*~*~*~*


	39. Chapter 39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *~*~*~*~*
> 
> Things have not gone well for Batman. 
> 
> Superman is feeling the full effect of Batman’s state. 
> 
> The Justice League is in disarray.
> 
> What else can go wrong?  
> Dare we even ask that question at this stage?  
> A new plan springs is being formulated.  
> It could be better or worse, depending on your perspective of course.
> 
> *~*~*~*~*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *~*~*~*~*
> 
> Apologies, this is a short chapter, I know.
> 
> But the next chapter is mostly finished.
> 
> Another thing to note, I know nothing about chemicals and physics so.... *hand wavy science*
> 
> *~*~*~*~*

*~*~*~*~*

The common area was abnormally quiet. After the adrenaline had died down, there remained a pall that seemed to hang over the collective heroes.

Dinah and Diana were seated on a lounge. They held hands in silent solidarity.

Barry and Victor were at a table but, unusually, the Flash wasn’t eating. Cyborg was going over data about the research performed on the Lazarus Pit water. It wasn’t comforting, so the teen kept the information to himself until it would be needed.

Hal was leaning on a counter next to a coffee machine. Sipping the caffeinated beverage slowly, the pilot took in the gloomy atmosphere. Admittedly, it wasn’t time for a party but this couldn’t be allowed to continue.

“Did I really see Boy Scout kiss Spooky?” Hal asked into the silence.

Dinah glared at Hal as she felt Diana tighten the grip on her hand. She was ready to give the Green Lantern a piece of her mind when Oliver stormed into the room. Flopping onto the couch next to Dinah, the blonde archer rubbed his hand through his hair in frustration. Before she could speak to her boyfriend, Oliver launched himself off the seating and started to pace.

“What the actual fuck?” Oliver asked nobody in particular.

The only answer the archer received was the muted humming of the surrounding WatchTower.

Oliver moved to stand next to Hal and pour himself a hot drink.

“Did I hear you say that your ring thought the procedure had the potential to be dangerous?” Arrow asked.

Hal nodded, put down his cup and a construct formed in the air. There was a lot of scientific formulas and diagrams of varying molecules.

“I don’t understand all of this,” Hal began. “But the the ring indicates that, undiluted, this is very unstable. The percentage of the Lazarus Pit water seemed quite low, so the ring was unable to tell me for sure if it was a bad idea. And… well….. Bats was dying and none of us wanted that to happen. It seems like it was the only option J’onn had. You know J’onn would never do anything to endanger any of us. If he believed this would work with the situation he was in, then I will give him the benefit of the doubt. I don’t know the full history of the substance and choose to believe in J’onn’s intentions.”

Oliver looked down into his cup. There was truth in Hal’s words. He felt conflicted with everything he knew about Batman, about Bruce Wayne. He also knew more intimate details than the others did. Resisting a glance at Dinah, he sighed.

“Since when are you the cool headed one of the group?” Oliver smirked at Hal.

Flash zoomed over and studied the hologram. The agile mind of the young CSI working with the benefit of the speed force.

“The way the core ingredients draw to each other, like magnets, isn’t unusual but it’s the composition that could be an issue.” Flash pointed to two projected chemical clusters. “The makeup of the solution doesn’t even make sense. These two shouldn’t be drawn together, in fact, the way they work on the subatomic level means they should repulse each other. And these here? Well, they’re bad, they’d disrupt the chemical balance of the brain.”

Hal and Oliver just looked at each other as Barry’s eyes flickered over the ring construct rapidly.

Victor had used his cybernetic eye to take note of the images being discussed. He didn’t have the knowledge Barry did, but it never took him long to find information once he knew what he was looking for. There was no conclusive evidence either way. Variables and unknown substances in the Lazarus Pit water left too many holes in the logic of physics. In the background, he started a correlation search between the demonstrated insanity and the known chemical breakdown Hal’s ring could provide. It might find nothing but he was going to try anything to help.  

Over on the sofa, Diana and Dinah looked at each other sadly.

“Are you alright, Di?” The question was whispered.

Diana nodded but her gaze dropped to the floor. She had conflicting emotions playing havoc with her normally calm demeanour.  
The battle in Washington had been a trap, Batman had paid a heavy price and still Superman had disobeyed orders and had been shot.

The chaste kiss in the MedBay replayed in her memory. It reminded her of the look on Kal’s face at the end of the Gala, when he had stormed into Bruce’s suite. Diana felt herself start to feel sorry for the Kryptonian when she recalled the harsh words in the MedBay. Pining? She was a princess, she didn’t pine.

Diana pushed her long black hair back over her shoulder, she couldn’t help wondering who she was kidding. Yes, she pined for Bruce but she’d also had hope. Hope that whatever covenant was occurring between the two men wasn’t as romantic as it looked. The kiss she had seen when Kal arrived had been a simple touching of lips, chaste. Similar to what she shared with her mother and sisters. Diana still didn’t want to believe that Bruce and Kal were together. Straightening her shoulders once more, she addressed the room.

“And what of Kal’s strange behaviour? J’onn’s research implied a bond or brotherhood, a partnership that built on what already existed between the World’s Finest,” Diana tried not to flinch as she spoke the words. “Why has Kal’s personality changed?”

The attention in the room shifted as they contemplated Diana’s question.

*~*~*~*~*

The idea had merit. More than that, it was safe.

J’onn’s own sense of guilt, and the ache he had felt when he was shown by  Kal what Bruce meant to the Kryptonian; the deep and dependant connection that had grown between them, had left him feeling raw.

Emotions J’onn thought long buried; about his life on Mars, his wife, his children, the bond with all things and it’s unbearable loss, gnawed at the back of his consciousness.

He also thought about how losing Batman could shatter Superman. It was more than what they called a ‘broken heart’ on Earth, and J’onn had intimate experience to call upon. It could be a fatal weakness to the Man of Steel under these conditions.   

Snapping his full concentration on what Kal was implying, he began to ask questions. The conversation became about chemical composition, nanotechnology, modifications and methods.

J’onn also needed access to the Fortress’ systems to confirm safety measures, especially after the last attempt at healing Batman. It was agreed quickly between the two that Cyborg could also offer insight through his enhanced systems. Questions would need to be answered about how the Kryptonian systems accounted for Bruce’s homosapien biology. He could also provide the research into the ‘contagion’ that now contaminated the human.

Perhaps J’onn could also research the development growing between two men, the one that reminded him so much of home.

*~*~*~*~*

With a quick nod to J’onn, Shayera left quietly as the discussion descended into technicalities. She would cover J’onn’s shifts and support them in any way she could.

She understood guilt all too well. If Superman felt responsible for Batman being used in a trap, to bait the Man of Steel, she could empathise.

Shayera remembered giving Kal the music crystal upon her return from Oa. She had seen the usual bright smile dimmed and withdrawn. She also remembered her attempts to talk to him, and how he’d avoided it. Something was definitely eating at her friend. And that something had to be Bat shaped. Despite the gruff exterior the Dark Knight exuded, the two men were friends, she reminded herself.

Now Kal was trying to save the grouchy Gothamite. She was sure Batman wouldn’t appreciate it, but she was prepared to crack him over the head with her mace if the paranoid vigilante didn’t show gratitude.

*~*~*~*~*

Lex Luthor sat in his penthouse suite. A heavy tumblr with a very expensive amber liquid was being swept up in the exaggerated arm movements of the Metropolis based villain.

“Where is the coverage, Mercy?” The bald man indicated the large wall mounted screen where news feeds were flickering past.

Mercy kept clicking the channels on the remote, seeking some news of Superman for her boss. So far, they had only seen broadcasts of the battle itself. Lex had grimaced whenever the scenes played out. She knew her boss well enough to know what he wanted to see.

Landing on another news channel, the only change to the newsfeed was when a camera had briefly caught Batman working on Superman to save his life. Lex stood up and moved to stand in front of the screen, studying the scene.

“Pause,” Lex called to Mercy. “Rewind and play frame by frame.”

Mercy complied, her eyes widening as she saw the scene. Batman crouched over Superman’s body. The camera didn’t have the right angle to see what Batman was doing.

“Look, there,” Lex called enthusiastically, pointing at a section of the paused camera shot. “We may not know what is going on with Superman, but you see? Batman is severely wounded. They will be without their tactician for a long time. He has been another constant obstacle to my plans, deciphering intentions and traps. Without the Batman, Superman has no one to pull him into line. And no one to save him. Why, I’d be surprised if Batman isn’t dead already.”

Lex crowed and danced about the room, spilling his expensive drink.

“It’s only a matter of time before a *different* Superman appears, and the people of this world see him for the false god he is. With no Batman to hold on to the leash, the Kryptonian’s changes will be all consuming. He will have no control, none of his famed good virtues. These are exciting times, Mercy,” Lex sounded pleased as he monologued at his assistant.

Mercy just nodded her head before she continued to flick through what was being reported on the television.

*~*~*~*~*

Cyborg received a call from J’onn to report to the MedBay.

The sight that greeted him filled him with trepidation.

The Bacta Immersion Tank was smashed, debris caught in rivulets of liquid as they had rushed across to the drains in the floor. An automatic scan told him the area was clear of any contaminants.

Batman was back on the treatment bed. There was an oxygen mask over his face, and an IV line into an immobilised arm. Minute vibrations, indicating muscle tension, was detected by Victor’s cybernetic eye. All the machinery that was attached to the prone man was also now feeding directly into him.

It was Victor’s human eye that looked at the other two in the room. J’onn’s expression was flawless, which told him immediately that something was wrong. J’onn could be quite expressive in his humanoid form and convey much meaning in a single look.

Superman was a surprise. He looked pale and sick. It reminded Cyborg of that night aboard the WatchTower when the Man of Steel had suffered something akin to a fit. In the background memory, the night replayed in a rapid, condensed format. There were matches between the way Superman looked then and now. Adding together what he learnt from J’onn’s research, the conclusion was the Superman was suffering because Batman was suffering. Most unusual.

“We need your assistance,” J’onn’s voice brought the majority of Victor’s processing, and all of his human attention, back to the situation at hand.

“Of course, whatever you need,” the teen stepped forward as he spoke.

*~*~*~*~*

After several hours, Bruce’s eyes fluttered open. The normally intelligent eyes were flat, empty. The consciousness of Batman, of Bruce Wayne, was quite simply missing. The healed body had woken naturally but it was akin to an empty shell.

There were looming forms around him. One had a glaring electronic eye that burnt into his retinas. His hands gripped the sheet suddenly and he tried to squirm away from the figures.

“Batman,” one of them said.

Bruce ducked his head and closed his eyes.

“Bruce,” another spoke softly.

He glanced up at the one who had spoken his name. An incredibly sad looking man in blue tried to take one of his hands. Bruce began to tremble violently as he attempted to pull away.

Bruce silently screamed as the green one reached over his face to touch his forehead, and his body succumbed to unconsciousness.

*~*~*~*~*


	40. Chapter 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *~*~*~*~*
> 
> Batman fights for his sanity.
> 
> Superman is suffering from ill effects, and makes a really bad decision.
> 
> Alfred visits the WatchTower.
> 
> The Justice League work to fix things.
> 
> It's a scramble for everyone to save Batman.
> 
> *~*~*~*~*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I apologise to all for the delay.  
> This is why I don't have a posting schedule, because I don't think I'd be able to keep to it.
> 
> Things will be picking up again soon.
> 
> I should have mentioned before, but Superman and the rest of the League don't know about the existence of Red Kryptonite in this story. Yet.
> 
> Many thanks go to the wonderful Lopethicus.
> 
> *~*~*~*~*

*~*~*~*~*

Clark had fallen to his knees in the MedBay. Cyborg and J’onn helped him attempt to stand, but he was shaky. Once again he was at the mercy of the symptoms of the joining.

Bruce’s reactions upon regaining consciousness were alarming. Clark had felt strange, incomplete. The constant thrum in his gut was writhing like a wounded animal. It felt as if a big tear was ripping through their connection. The pounding behind his eyes was intense, but irregular. He felt sick, like he was going to vomit violently.

Clark’s mind flickered briefly to the strange feelings he experienced when he had held the red pieces that remained of the kryptonite bullet in his hand. He had a moment to wonder if he would be able to think better with it in his possession, to help Bruce, before he was lost to the shared symptoms of the Bat once more.

Although the pain of Bruce’s physical injuries had gone so had the feedback of thoughts and emotions. The agony tore through him, making it hard to breathe.

“Clark,” J’onn’s deep voice broke Kal out of his daze. “I have to ask you, are you suffering because of *khehth uchahvia*?”

Superman was startled to hear the Kryptonian words, ones he had only heard from Jor-El and the Fortress. J’onn put a hand on his shoulder and Kal felt empathy from the Martian.

“After the incident at the WatchTower, I did some research. Kal, is Bruce your *tav shesur chahv zhor*?” J’onn asked gently.

Clark could only nod in response. He closed his eyes for a moment and let himself feel the uchahvia of his shesur zhor. Thinking of his situation in the correct Kryptonian titles still felt strange. More importantly, he was still connected. Bruce was alive. He let this knowledge wash over him as he straightened up.

“It’s true,” Kal said. “But for now, we have to focus on Bruce.”

Cyborg stored this information away. Superman was right, they had to focus on Batman.

“We need access to the Fortress,” Cyborg wanted to get to work.

Clark nodded and moved over to the nearby console. After typing away at the keyboard, he tapped his comm in his ear and began to speak.

“This is Kal-El. The modifications to the Genesis Chamber is of the highest priority. Give access to relevant data to Martian Manhunter and Cyborg.” Superman’s voice was strained as he spoke.

Victor and J’onn looked at each other for a moment before returning their attention to the screens surrounding the bed where Batman lay. The deeper the pair looked, the more amazing were the results of the healing. Neither one understood the complexity of the side effects they had seen.

Superman joined them after briefly explaining the change of circumstances in Bruce’s condition over the comm to Jor-El.

Clark had never allowed anyone, except Batman, to have access to the Fortress, and it had only been via the WatchTower systems. Certainly, no one had any idea that the AI hologram of his biological father still resided there.

“It can still work,” the blue clad hero whispered as he closed the channel to the Fortress. “It has to.”

*~*~*~*~*

Jor-El had listened to Kal explain the change in circumstances. Preparations were already well underway for a modified Genesis Chamber.

The Fortress alerted him to the database being accessed by Cyborg. Jor-El watched the technopath rapidly sift through the information and add the formula for the chemical compound that had invaded the Batman’s blood.

He nodded to himself. It was achievable but would require several treatments.

Inserting himself into the interface between the Fortress and Cyborg, Jor-El began to work on the small changes that would be necessary.

*~*~*~*~*

Bruce felt a bone numbing cold.  

Darkness surrounded him. Reverberations, carried through his barrier, echoed. Whatever was out there was being held off, for now.

At first he thought his mind was playing more tricks on him as a pale glow started to emanate from the shield that was protecting him.

The light increased slowly, reminding Bruce of a fireplace. Like the last embers of a roaring winter fire. The colour was wrong and jolted him out of his contemplation.

It became a hazy bluish colour.

Bruce thought the nightmares were finally breaching his defenses and worked mentally to reinforce the area where the light was coming from.

He wasn’t giving up without a fight.

*~*~*~*~*

All the members of the Justice League were busy. The WatchTower seemed to be a hive of activity. It had been 12 hours since Batman had been brought to the MedBay.

J’onn and Cyborg worked tirelessly with Superman’s Fortress interface to ensure the next treatment’s safety and success.

J’onn had also been monitoring Batman’s mental state, but there was simply nothing there. Only chaos and madness swirled around the central manifested core. J’onn had caught on quickly to what Batman had done. Self preservation. J’onn could only hope that the human would return to them unscathed.

An informal meeting in the common area was underway. Even Arthur attended.

The fact that Aquaman had come to check on the Batman, and offered any help he could provide, surprised more than a few. An attempt had been made to draw the liquid of the Lazarus Pit from Batman utilising the Atlantean’s abilities with water, but it was unsuccessful.

J’onn spoke to the group of his conclusions about Batman’s condition. Oliver grumbled incoherently from the back of the room, only to be quickly shushed by Dinah. Superman had reluctantly returned to the Fortress with Cyborg. Hal was covering Monitor Duty but listened in. Flash was needed back in Central City and would be briefed later. Diana sat quietly, fingers brushing against the Lasso of Truth that rested at her hip. Shayera sat in the seat next to J’onn and listened intently.

When J’onn finished with his explanation of how they planned to use the Genesis Chamber to flush the Lazarus Pit solution from Batman’s system, the room was silent for almost a full second.

Oliver jumped up from his seat, his whole body vibrating with repressed frustration.

“Another untried, untested, potentially dangerous experiment? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” Arrow slammed his hands on the table as he spoke.

The other members all added their voices until Arthur stood up and called for silence.

“Arguing amongst ourselves will achieve nothing,” the Sea King chided. “The Lazarus Pit waters may not have been the most responsible course of action, but nothing else was going to prevent the Batman’s death. I hope you will bear that in mind when considering what options we have before us now.”

“You are all welcome to see the data,” J’onn added. “We will not move forward with this until everyone is satisfied, including Mister Pennyworth.”

Hal’s voice came over the internal speakers.

“Funny you should mention Alfred, because he’s requesting to see Spooky,” the pilot’s voice was uncertain.

“We should let him,” Diana said quietly. “He needs to be fully informed about what has happened, and has a right to participate in these discussions.”

Dinah nodded her agreement.

“Bring him up,” J’onn told Hal, once he saw the looks of agreement on the rest of the Leaguer’s faces.

“Right away,” Hal quipped.

“I’ll go and meet Alfred,” Oliver began.

“Oliver, you are too emotional right now,” Dinah interjected.

“J’onn, you go,” Shayera said.

J’onn nodded and sunk through the floor after assuring everyone that he would be back as soon as he could. Alfred would want to see his charge right away.

*~*~*~*~*

Alfred’s skin tingled as he arrived at the WatchTower. It wasn’t his first time aboard the satellite provided to the League by Master Bruce. The circumstances were certainly unique to prompt this visit.

Various members of the League had kept him apprised of Master Bruce’s condition. The personalities that made up the heroes had also made it difficult to get consistent information. There was nothing else for it, but to see for himself.

J’onn met him by the door. As they began to walk the corridor towards the MedBay, Alfred couldn’t repress a shudder as he was almost overcome by a feeling of apprehension.

“You are broadcasting your worry, Mister Pennyworth,” the Martian stated softly.

Alfred nearly laughed aloud.

“I’m afraid I don’t have Master Bruce’s training to prevent that at the moment, Mister Jones,” Alfred tried to keep his voice steady as he spoke.

J’onn stopped them in the corridor to put a large green hand on the older gentleman’s shoulder.

“You don’t have to hold back, Mister Pennyworth. I understand your concern for your son. However, I must apologise for the way I spoke to you earlier. I, too, worry about Bruce Wayne. I’m not talking about his injuries or current condition. Recent times have put a strain on him, in more ways than one,” J’onn put all his regret and compassion into his tone as he spoke.

Alfred patted the hand on his shoulder and looked into the deep crimson eyes.

“I don’t think Master Bruce realises how much all of you care about him. He has always isolated himself from people. And as for our earlier conversation about his injuries, do not worry yourself. I have put up with Master Bruce’s antics for many years. He has a way with words at times that would put a sailor to shame.” A smile quirked at Alfred’s lips.

It was never Bruce’s words that hurt the Englishman the most, but the strained silences after they fought. Alfred thought back to the hurt and betrayal he had seen on his young ward’s face when he was drugged, by Alfred’s design if not his hand, at the Manor.  

J’onn smiled gently when he caught the leakage of fondness from Bruce’s father figure.

“As for recent events, are you referring to the botched sting operation in Gotham, the unknown drug he was injected with by those nefarious criminals of Intergang, or do you mean what is happening with Superman?” the canny butler asked.

J’onn tilted his head to the side, impressed with the man in front of him. He didn’t mince words. It was easy to see similarities between this man and Batman.

“Yes, all of those things worked together to put Batman at risk. He was not fully healed from the Gotham Incident when he went up against Luthor and Bane. I do have information to share about what is happening with Superman. Do you want to wait until after you have seen Bruce before we discuss it?” J’onn asked.

Alfred raised a single eyebrow, taking a moment to think, before answering.

“Let us focus on Master Bruce’s current dilemma, before we begin discussing what is happening with Mister Kent. I may be able to provide insight into what has occurred between them without breaching any confidences. However,” Alfred let himself pinch the bridge of his nose and gather himself once more. “I need to know what has happened to my.. Son.”

J’onn understood completely, he had also been a father, so when J’onn started speaking again, it was to suggest the pair first watch the surveillance recordings from the MedBay.

When the cowl had been removed, Alfred had lost the direct feed to the screens in the Cave. J’onn was going to queue up from the moment Batman had been put in the Bacta Tank, but Alfred insisted on watching from the moment Master Bruce had been brought to the MedBay.

To his credit, Alfred didn’t flinch while watching Cyborg and Flash restart Master Bruce’s heart, twice. A slight crease to his forehead was present during the arguments back and forth. When Bruce was put into the Bacta Tank, Alfred’s eyes were practically glued to the screen. A sharp inhaled breath was the only outward sign of Alfred’s distress upon seeing the results of the immersion. His own fist was clenched by his side when Superman punched the tank. When Master Bruce was finally breathing again, the footage paused. J’onn brought up the before and after scans of the physical changes that occurred. After Alfred indicated he understood what the scans showed, the video feed jumped forward to the first awakening in the MedBay.

This almost broke Alfred. Seeing the child of his heart react so out of character.

J’onn respectfully ignored the tears gathering in the corners of Alfred’s eyes and advised the man of the plan for using the Genesis Chamber.

Alfred was silent for long minutes before he asked to see Master Bruce.

*~*~*~*~*

Everyone seated at the conference table stood when J’onn brought Alfred in a short while later.

The Englishman had stopped by the MedBay long enough to reach out to Bruce’s hand and take a few deep breaths. J’onn had stayed back out of respect. When Alfred finally turned to the Martian, it was once more the stoic butler that was ready to meet with the rest of the League to hear the discussion about their next course of action.

Alfred was seated in Batman’s usual chair as J’onn drew everyone’s attention.

As usual, it was Oliver who spoke up first.

“Alfred,” the Archer’s voice cracked and couldn’t say more as his sense of failure overwhelmed him again.

“Fret not, Mister Queen. I’ve seen the footage. I know you tried to prevent this. However, the blame lies not with you, but with myself. I authorised it.” the Englishman stated.

“Why?” Oliver whispered.

Alfred looked down at the surface in front of him. He couldn’t meet anyone’s eyes at that moment.

“I couldn’t bear to lose him,” Alfred’s normally stoic voice shook just a little.

Diana leaned across and took one of the older man’s hands in her own, giving a gentle squeeze.

“None of us could,” Diana said gently.

Alfred’s watery eyes looked up at the Princess of Themyscira, and nodded his gratitude.

“Now then, it’s time to discuss what happens next,” J’onn said clearly. “I want all to be in agreement with this course of action.”

The next several hours were full of discussion, questions, a few raised voices and eventually assent. The logistics of the operation were done with much quicker.

Now, it was time for action.

*~*~*~*~*

Cyborg had been surprised when he arrived at the Fortress. The first thing he noted was a conversation between an older man and Superman.

At a lull between them, the older man turned to face Victor.

“Oh, um, Victor,” Clark started hesitantly. “This is Jor-El. He’s…”

“A hologram,” Cyborg finished the sentence for the Man of Steel.

“Yes,” Jor-El smiled at the teen. “You are Cyborg. I have been monitoring your progress within the Fortress systems. I am most impressed.”

Jor-El stuck out his hand for Victor to shake, but the young man gave a lopsided smile instead.

Jor-El laughed in response.

“I shall have to practise my humour with someone less astute,” the AI ceded.

“You are welcome to practise with me, Jor-El,” Cyborg said with a genuine warmth in his voice for the AI. He hoped he would get to spend some time with Jor-El because the hologram fascinated him. He wondered if the technology could be utilised to hide his.. changes, and he could once more pass for human.

“We should get down to business,” the technopath said as he got his priorities back on track. “May I see the Genesis Chamber?”

Superman, who had watched the interaction disinterestedly, was fighting the clenching in his gut. The hammering inside his head was affecting his ability to think. When he saw Kelex out of the corner of his eye, he knew there was a way to block the pain of uchahvia.

“Jor-El, will you show Victor what he needs?” Clark asked while his arms wrapped around his stomach. “I .. think I need a rest.”

Both Cyborg and Jor-El raised their eyebrows in concern.

“Certainly,” Jor-El answered. The pair moved towards an opening door and Jor-El looked back to see Kal fall back into a seat that the Fortress automatically formed around the last son of Krypton. The last thing he heard was Kal calling for Kelex. Reassured that Kal would be looked after, he focussed on answering questions for Cyborg as they made their way to the original Genesis Chamber.

*~*~*~*~*

Kelex floated over to Clark when summoned.

“Do you still have those items I entrusted to your care?” the monitor-servant was asked.

An affirmative trill had Clark nodding his head in satisfaction.

“I have a project for one of those items. Same parameters as before. I.. I’ll need.. It needs to be made into something I can wear.” Clark ran a hand through his hair.

Kal was desperate to help Bruce and with the way things were now, he couldn’t see past the symptoms he was dealing with. He was frustrated, and it had showed during his time at the WatchTower. Knowing that the strange material had helped him block the debilitating effects of the ‘joining’ meant he needed it.

Kelex had a small screen used for a variety of purposes. Images flashed across them now. Various pendants and jewellery pins, diagrams for insertion directly into the cuff of his suit, rings for his fingers.

“Stop,” Clark ordered. “Display the rings.”

A variety of Earth and Kryptonian designs began to flicker back and forth. Clark didn’t like the gaudy looking things that had large stones in them. A simple band with what looked to be opals bisecting the circumference of the band was interesting. He instructed Kelex to show similar designs. The problem Kal had was that he didn’t want anyone to see the material that would be set into the ring.

“Kelex, can you go back to the first ring?” he asked.

The monitor-servant complied instantly.

“Can something be made where the band looks plain, and there is no outward sign of any other materials?” Kal pondered aloud.

Kelex chirped and a new image was presented.

It was like the simple opal ring had been turned inside out. The outside band was a plain looking alloy, but the interior glowed red where it would sit against his skin.

“Perfect,” Clark muttered. “How soon can it be made?”

Kryptonian symbols appeared on Kelex’s screen.

“No, the Genesis Chamber modifications are still a priority,” Kal answered.

More of the old language appeared. Superman’s brow furrowed in thought.

“I know the Fortress could do this in minutes, but I don’t want this registered in the system. Can you do this without the Fortress, Kelex?” he gritted out through clenched teeth as his connection to Bruce once more dug a hot knife into his stomach.

Another affirmative trill seemed to echo loudly in his head.

“Do it,” he managed to croak out before, once more, he blacked out.

*~*~*~*~*

End Notes:

*khehth uchahvia* - Sacred Synergy -  The effects of Soul Binding

*tav shesur chahv zhor* - Two Souls One Heart - formal/neutral title or form of address

*~*~*~*~*

The ring Kelex is making looks like this:

<https://i.pinimg.com/236x/be/d6/15/bed615b60e3d5e04468cc482072b0f55--tungsten-wedding-band-wedding-band-rings.jpg>

Where this image shows green, will be the red Kryptonite.

Thanks to Yamada for help finding the perfect ring :D 

*~*~*~*~*


End file.
